


a yellow gem and lots of fluff.

by リリス - riris (arurun)



Series: in memory of the ones that live again. [2]
Category: Pocket Monsters SPECIAL | Pokemon Adventures, Pocket Monsters: Ruby & Sapphire & Emerald | Pokemon Ruby Sapphire Emerald Versions
Genre: Adventure, Congenital Insensitivity to Pain, During Canon, Fluff, Gen, Houen-chichou | Hoenn, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Protective, References to Depression, Sick Character, does not interact with the main cast
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2020-04-11 20:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 32,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19116835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arurun/pseuds/%E3%83%AA%E3%83%AA%E3%82%B9%20-%20riris
Summary: Citrine is a girl that can't feel pain, and has survived thus far with the help of the Pokemon around her and her surrogate guardian Wallene and Riley in Rustboro. Being the younger sister of a world-famous Berry researcher, she sets off to venture the Hoenn region, aiming to write her very own edition of the Berry Encyclopedia.





	1. grind through the toughest battles; indifference is not a strength.

_Nothing is impossible if you're faithless._

 

People say  **effort is a virtue, and you would be rewarded for it**. 

If studying was 'effort' and good results was a 'reward', why do people claim academics aren't everything when their striving conflicts with bad luck?

We all know that's just one big, fat, lie.

In this world, teenagers without guidance blind the young ones, making them think 'education isn't everything', not letting them know that they were being led down a talentless future.

People strive and grind through the tides of pressure and expectations-- and ultimately, only the one that bears through it, even against the agonizing waves, come out successful.

Some run down the path of talent-- some become athletes, commit themselves to artistry, or pull through the worst with family inheritance. Those people? They're cheaters.

That's right-- life was like a Pokemon game, sometimes.

You set off on a journey, grind up levels one after another after another and another-- pulling through with time and vigor until you reach the end.

But others crack up infinite Master Balls, pull out a hundred Rare Candies, negate all damage taken, and never struggle to complete the Pokedex.

There is an unfair point to every part of life. There will always be something, somewhere, that makes your heart ache from injustice, and render your limbs weak from exhaustion.

The easiest escape from this agony is simply to  _erase_.

To delete that meaningless Pokemon game and leave it aside in our lives.

**To simply take that one step from the edge, and close your eyes.**

_Don't forget to say goodnight to your parents, alright?_

 

-

_Blood is a beautiful shade of red._

 

Gleaming, like a ruby, brimming, like liquid metal. Crimson was a wonderful shade, and curiosity often led people to adore this aesthetic, naming it with a lavish _velvet_ to veil their insanity.

Those who fail to hide it well enough, they are called simply with the spiteful words,  _psychopath_.

But what if they were a child?  _Naughty,_  perhaps. And they'd get scolded, wondering what they did wrong.

For this child, she was interested.

Her palm was split open at the line, spread out, bubbling grossly at the edges, shining a gory scarlet of flesh, splashed across to her fingers in a rather diluted spread.

She considered closing her palm, but she didn't, fearing the blood would stain her nails.

That would be hard to get rid of, after all.

She wondered if she should get it treated. Wiping it on her pants and waiting for it to dry would be easy, but this didn't seem like it'd coagulate quickly. But it didn't hurt. That meant it was fine, right?

There was a tug on her shirt, a hasty jaw biting at the hem of her dress, a young little hyena trying its hardest to pull the girl to its direction. 

Behind her, the zigzag-furred raccoon desperately rubbed its forehead against her back, attempting to shove her forward with its head.

She was sitting in the grass, not too sure what they were trying to tell her.

She rubbed at her eyes with her clean hand, and yawned. Somehow, things were looking a little blurry to her. maybe she needed a nap.

"Did that Dustox run away?" she wondered to herself, looking at the two others around her, "it gave a really big wind, so all the other Pokemon ran away from here."

The little Whismur had been hastily grasped, and tenderly cradled in her arms when she shielded it from harm. Now, after the danger had passed, it was trembling, little murmurs vibrating from its body like a baby's sobs. Humans couldn't hear the frequency of their noise, but she knew Whismur was still scared.

A breeze wafted in, a mistral current icy to her damp back.

Huh?

Why did her back feel cold?

Craning her neck over her shoulder, she came to witness beauty in the form of vermilion leaves. Drowned in red, as if colour was thrown over it, she saw the evergreen beneath her burning with the fiery colour-- and she lost herself in it, entranced.

Because it was  _beautiful_.

Even if the colour was fresh blood torn from the hole in her back.

 


	2. numb to the pain; strive for the joy.

_Congenital Insensitivity to Pain._

 

It seemed that was just a fancy phrase for 'your child can't feel pain, somehow'. 

At first, she was muffled, unable to perceive just why that was a problem at all. The murky, suffocating bandages wound thickly around her palm and around her chest. It was suffocating, very uncomfortable.

It didn't hurt, anyways.

She tried to stand up, but there came Leafeon, pouncing up to her chest. In a surprised reflex, she fell back right back onto her bed, startled.

Leafeon stared the girl down, a scrutiny present in its usually indifferent features. With an elegance in its posture, it raised its head to the skies, and sang out.

The tune resonated a deep, resounding lullaby, a beautiful  _Grass Whistle_  to entice slumber for its listeners. Mellow, sharp, yet gentle-- Citrine did not resist it.

Leafeon took its watching job seriously.

 

—

 

"Don't be reckless," her brother muttered, evidently upset. His brows were furrowed into a scowl, his lips were pulled thin. "Wind might seem harmless, but that was  _Gust_. It can  _cut_ things," he emphasized.

Citrine sat on her bed, trying to look apologetic.

"It didn't hurt, so it was fine," she tried.

"Just because it doesn't hurt doesn't mean it's fine," he joshed, leaning closer, "look, Dustox have poisonous wings. If Blissey didn't use  _Heal Pulse_ , you'd be dead."

Citrine puffed up her cheeks rebelliously, pouting.

"I'm not joking, Citrine!" he snapped.

The girl flinched, startled by the loud voice.

"You don't know how pain feels," his voice was torn-- and when she looked up, she found the tears that were bound into his eyes, "but I know you're hurting, Citrine."

She stayed still, quiet.

"You were scared, right?" he clenched his fists, eyeing his sister sternly, "of the Dustox, for the Whismur; you were scared the baby Pokemon would get hurt."

She wanted to deny it-- to tell him it was no more than a situational, impulsive reaction-- but she couldn't.

"You knew that Whismur would get hurt," he said, "and you thought that if you took the blow instead, you wouldn't be in pain. That's why you saved it, right?"

She watched her injured hand, and closed it tightly. She gripped her other fist to the nails, and bit down on her lips in stress.

_How did he read me?_

She really could only wonder, and get no logical answer. It was simply because he was the _older brother_ , and that alone seemed to explain it all. 

"Citrine," a sharp call.

Her palm wound had reopened-- and there was a taste of copper on her lips. Looking to her previously uninjured hand, she found nail marks, dug into skin and drawing new blood.

She was  _horrified_  at herself.

Her brother stood up quickly, inspecting the new wounds with a face that felt utter despair. Remorseful, he parted his sister's hands, keeping them at her lap as he reached for the first aid kit on the closet.

"You can't feel pain, so you can't tell how much strength you're really using," he realized.

_It doesn't hurt, though._

"I'll get used to it," she assured him. "Once I know how much strength I can use, I won't hurt myself anymore, right?" 

She tried to smile, but it only broke into a shattering curve, her eyes drooping, burning, brimming-- somehow, she was willed to cry.

The disinfectant wafting the air, not reaching her nose, she choked on a thickness in her throat-- and felt the tears part from her eyelashes, running down her cheeks.

Her brother wrapped his hand prayfully around those aggrieved hands-- and breathed out shakily.

"You did well," he promised.

_You did well._

She lived an arduous life, suffering, despairing, in  _pain_.

In this world, she'll live an arduous life, simply because it is  _void_  of pain.

 

-

 

_Biblichor; the scent of old books._

 

Her hand traced the emblazoned logo, her eyes trained on each and every minuscule detail, fascinated by the book's cover.

There was no title on it, but it was clean. No stains, no tears-- the papers were only a little bronze from storage. There was the faint aroma of sweet vanilla in those pages-- which meant it was a rather new book, unlike those ancient beauties her brother always got her.

"That's my souvenir from Sinnoh," her brother told her, "it's a copy of the original, I bought it off of Byron somehow," he muttered the last part, "mainly because he owes me a favour."

She was overjoyed as she skimmed the first page, which began a thesis on time and space and construction-- she instantly recognized those hasty sketches, and observed the scribbling writings she could only barely make out.

If she was patient, those lines would soon form words. Gradually, it would construct its own meaning, and complete itself into a story. 

However, that was for another time.

She pulled the book shut, and put it aside, onto her mattress. Turning to her brother expectantly, she squeaked as he rubbed her head roughly, messing up her unkempt hair even further.

"How long will you be staying this time?" she spoke to him, pulling out a comb and starting to work on her bedhead.

He hummed, folding his arms and pretending to be deep in thought. He leaned against the wooden work desk, eyeing the unfinished worksheets from Trainers' School, then his gaze flipped back toward his younger sister.

"Three months?" it sounded like a suggestion.

"Three whole months?!" she reacted explosively, disbelieving.

"Is that a negative?" he faked hurt.

"You were asking permission?" she groaned.

Her brother burst out in laughter, amused at his sister's exaggerated reaction. He was a researcher of his own leisure, a man that explored the world to discover the rarity and scarcity of  _Berries_. It made him scarcely home, but Citrine didn't mind that.

In this world, children needed to be mature even if they were still seven, like her now.

All she could do was wait calmly, patiently, for him to come back with new stories for her.

He always seemed to smell sweet, somehow, and his fingers were stained in the fragrance. A familiar spice of nostalgia, an incense that was called home.

"Did I hear three months?!" a large man came bursting in, overexcited, "Quartz is staying in Hoenn for three months??"

Trailing right behind him, worried for invasion of sibling intimacy, was a lady in a maxi skirt. "Riley, you may be interrupting," she tried to warn, but it seemed she was fully interested too. She stepped into the room with an expectant smile on her face, her hands held together in wishful implication, "but if that's true, we  _must_  make the most of it!"

"We've got eavesdroppers," her brother pointed out in a deadpan.

"Weren't you busy digging the tunnel, Riley?" Citrine narrowed her gaze on him.

"I-" the man stumbled, "am working on it!"

Citrine just sighed.

The tunnel-worker, Riley, lived in the outskirts of Rustboro City. Citrine was place under his care, and there she lived side by side with the Pokemon for years. 

Wallene, his girlfriend, would also make often visits despite living in the far town over the mountains. In a sense, they were like her foster parents.

"But  _he_  isn't letting me go anywhere until my back heals," she whined, pointing at her brother, who acted like he was getting framed.

"Now, now," Wallene soothed her, settling down beside the girl on her bed, and letting her lean into her chest as the woman brushed through her hair gently. "With enough rest, you should heal quickly enough. In exchange, your brother can take you around."

Enjoying the affection, Citrine wrapped her arms around the woman.

"Humans heal differently from Pokemon, but Blissey can get you healed up in about three days," Quartz offered, gesturing at the Pokemon, which pumped its own chest with confidence, "you can take me around Rustboro, or we can Fly if you want."

"I wanna Surf!" Citrine bolted right up, excited.

"Surfing it is," Quartz gave in with a sigh. He turned to Wallene and Riley, "I guess that means you two can enjoy some quiet time alone while the children are out."

They flushed bright red.

 


	3. the sea we sailed in love; the promise in our separation.

_If the sea was you, I'd dive and never resurface._

 

The wind was bristling, whirling through her hair and jostling them out of their spots. They'd soon escape from the twintails she pulled them into, but for now, she admired the sea. 

Gyarados cut through the sea, its serpentine, dragon-like form rode the waves at a calming speed, not boosting forth through the tides-- although, it did look like it wanted to.

Citrine sat down on its back, watching it stream through the waves, the gale biting at her face even though she didn't face it. Her brother was standing atop the creature's head, facing the view bravely, accustomed to greater rapids.

"Quartz, was Sinnoh fun?" she spoke up, raising her voice over the deafening torrents.

"It was!" and he was smiling so wide, "there's a lot there you can't find in Hoenn. Pokemon, people, everything. Leafeon's incredible, don't you think?"

Leafeon, who evolves surrounded by greenery. Citrine remembered acquainting it as an Eevee, so it was possible that her brother's had it for a rather long while.

As rare as Eevee were, Hoenn was a region where Eevee did not come to stay. Citrine knew that, but she also knew she'd never seen an Eevee before.

"Do you like it more than Hoenn?" 

Citrine pulled at Gyarados' fin, carefully grasping at each available, handle-like crevice, pulling herself up to face the scenery before her. 

"Of course not!" she found her brother grinning at her, "every region is full of amazing things to explore. Hoenn and Sinnoh are just a dime in a dozen."

Little isles and rocks come into view, and Gyarados slowed for cautious curves.

"It took me two years to travel Kanto, but one year to conquer Sinnoh," Quartz spoke to her, sitting down and closing his fist in a sort of animated determination, "my next stop is Johto, but there's so much more out there I've yet to see. I almost wish I could see it all, at once, now."

Citrine kept her eyes on her brother-- and inside, she felt admiration fill her. Awe, and inspiration was in her heart. She felt the urge to ask  _if she could go with him_ , but she didn't. 

Simply because her brother was a researcher, an adventurer, an avid Pokemon Trainer-- and Citrine had no right to interfere with his journey.

She wanted to travel the regions too, she knew it true from her heart.

She ran a hand across Gyarados' head-- and sensed warmth. She noted the care, the gentleness present in this large creature-- it went slow, slower than even those other trainers they passed-- yet, perhaps because this little girl was on board, it didn't fall to taunts.

She savoured the deep, earnest trust reverberating from this Pokemon-- and understood that it was directed purely at her older brother.

"What about here?" she asked, "how long did it take for you to conquer Hoenn?"

At that, her brother chuckled dryly, rubbing the back of his head on a rather bashful note. "Actually, I haven't traversed all of Hoenn yet."

She froze, "what?"

"It's a long story," he muttered with a sigh, "I was tasked to deliver a parcel of sorts all the way to Kanto, which was simple with flight," he rambled, "then I found some strange Berries, got interested, and lost myself there."

Citrine was petrified, "I can't believe it, you take a detour for two whole years?"

"I mean, it's a part of my job..." he pouted, denying guilt.

Citrine threw her hand up to her face, burying it in shame. "And you went right off to explore Sinnoh, instead of completing your studies in your birthplace."

"I'm spreading my wings."

"Toward the sun, I hope."

The brother dove toward his sister, holding her in a teasing chokehold, "you really grew a mouth when I was gone!" he taunted, "all grown up and ready to bully your brother, eh?"

Citrine whined, struggling to escape from his haughty grasp, "it's because you're so laid back," she argued, "I'm almost an adult already!"

He laughed, wrapping his sister in a rough shoulder hug. Citrine sighed, but made herself comfortable from there.

"That's right!" Quartz seemed to get an idea, "how about you go on and explore Hoenn for me?"

Citrine bolted, pushing away from her brother abruptly, "what?"

"You're already turning twelve next year!" Quartz responded quickly grinning proudly, "that's about the age I was when I started out, y'know."

"Really?"

 _Come to think of it, in this world, people usually set out on their journeys when they turned ten_. Citrine would be a late bloomer, then.

But, "even though you can't trust me with my own personal safety yet?"

At that, her brother seemed to burst out in laughter. Citrine didn't think she'd said anything remotely hilarious, but her brother held his stomach cackling like a madman and nearly rolling off of Gyarados like a doofus.

"Why are you laughing? Stop- wait, wha-"

Wheezing, her brother struggled to compose himself. It seemed something that happened was hysterical to him, and Citrine really didn't get it.

"Let's get you a Pokemon!" he decided, standing up and holding on to Gyarados' fin. 

"A Pokemon?" Citrine brightened up, "I can? Really?"

"Hold on tight," he grinned, then pointed to the sky, "Full speed ahead, Gyarados!"

Citrine felt  _danger_.

 

-

 

_And lost boys like me are free._

 

The strap on his boot buckle was tugged, and he fastened it tight.

Lucario stood beside its trainer, watching cautiously despite there being no real signs of danger. it seemed restless, eager to take a run across the hills or something-- but it waited, patient.

"Well then, I'll be off now," Quartz said to his sister, standing up to brush off the creases on his clothing. He took his backpack from his sister, slinging it casually over his shoulder and trusting what he needed was carefully prepared.

Retrieving a Poke Ball from his belt, he released Honchkrow, and returned Lucario.

"Take care, alright?" Citrine managed a simple word of well wishes. 

Bundled up in warm pyjamas, yawning from a little hasty wake-up call, she wondered if it really was necessary for her brother to leave before dawn.

Riley was fast asleep, and Wallene had gone home to Verdanturf two nights ago. 

Lotad was cradled in her arms, whining out sleep croaks as it slumped comfortably in its trainer's embrace.

"You too, on your own journey," her brother chortled.

"If you don't come back soon, I might crawl my way up to become champion of the Hoenn Region!" Citrine nudged at her older brother.

"Oh, don't push your luck, kiddo!" Quartz chopped her on her head.

Bringing his hands to the end of his belt, he pulled out the last Poke Ball he held.

"That's..." Citrine was surprised when her brother pushed it into her hands-- and closed her fingers over the capsule. "Leafeon?"

"It's hard to say I'm not worried about you going off alone on a journey," Quartz put his hand on the young girl's shoulder, an assuring pat perhaps emanating an older brother's sense of responsibility. 

Citrine and her Lotad looked closer to the ball. The little feline Pokemon inside sat down calmly, accepting the transfer of ownership with little resistance at all.

"He's my best," Quartz ensured, "might not listen to you, though, since it's so strong. But, I can definitely trust it with your safety." 

"So... it's my bodyguard?" Citrine questioned, rather hesitant in accepting it. 

"Your temporary older brother," he suggested.

"Sounds like a better brother than the one I have now," Citrine snickered.

"One day, I will punch you. One day, Citrine," he warned.

Their laughter echoed toward the rising sun, chiming a delicate harmony as they stepped out of the house. In the misty darkness of daybreak, the earth was silent, and the leaves were still. The large Honchkrow spread its wings, horned a song of departure-- and soared.

Citrine's eyes came to meet her brother's one last time.

 

As his back vanished into the clouds, she tightened her grip on the Poke Ball she was entrusted, and clutched Lotad toward her just a little tighter than before.

Her smile was stripped off of her, and she felt the urge to cry.

But she wouldn't.

"If this was a game, or an anime," she mumbled, only to the two creatures in her arms, "I'd be excited, happy, cheering out loud and getting all crazy over it, wouldn't I?"

Lotad whimpered.

"I really don't understand," Citrine breathed out, desperate to clam her nerves. 

Her clutch on Lotad was only getting harder, and the fear she strained to not let out was bursting forth and threatening to spill in tears.

"What's so fun about the outside world?" she whispered, expecting an answer from the Pokemon that couldn't speak to her, "it only caused me pain last time."

Leafeon popped right out of its Poke Ball, startling the girl as it perched on her shoulders, rubbing its face on hers, some form of animalistic intimacy meant to soothe.

"I mean, who's to say I won't kill myself again?"

 


	4. and so it begins, embraced by stones and nature.

_ Time will either pass you, or change you. _

 

Shimmering like glitter, the orange sunlight filtered through the vines, peeking through the canopy to a gentle nest beneath.

Curled up in a family of Mightyena and Poochyena, a young girl rumbled soft snores. The Pokemon were sprawled over her like a patchwork of shiny black and silver blankets, eager to enjoy the warmth and comfort of day.

Rustboro City was coming to rouse from the night, and this part of the outskirts were no exception.

Her hair was tangled in awful knots, and the girl's long-sleeved blouse was rubbed in dried mud. She didn't seem to mind it much-- after all, the secret base was tender with dew, and veiled by the protection of wild Pokemon.

A Lotad cuddled at the crook of her neck, and a Whismur wrapped loosely in her arms.

"Goodness, I really found you here!"

The interruption of a rather indignant woman made a few of the older in the pack hiss in displeasure, but the teenager made no real action to return the hostility.

She stayed and stood with confidence in her posture, keeping a watchful eye on the riled Mightyena, but checking a gaze on the sleeping child in the center.

She donned a deep blue pinafore, with long, mahogany brown hair pulled into pigtails. This girl was a respectable Gym Leader, despite her young age of fifteen.

"Wake up!" she raised her voice.

The girl bolted upright, horrifically wrenched from some dream, "I didn't steal the Berry Encyclopediaa!!!" she squeaked, half-asleep. Then, "I swear I returned it this time!"

Silence.

Her eyes swung to the intruder, who only folded her arms, staring down at the younger girl in a rather angered, judgemental manner. Promising death, the older girl glared sternly at Citrine, demanding a sort of explanation for that earlier outburst.

Citrine dripped with cold sweat, and swallowed a thick throatful of bile.

"Uh, good morning?"

"You were supposed to meet me two hours ago in front of the Gym!" she didn't raise her voice enough to make a scene, but it was still a harsh reprimand, "I ask around, and I find you sleeping in the wild?"

"Oh, that's because," Citrine chimed up quickly, "the Pokemon are keeping my temperature constant for me, because my sense of temperature's duller than a normal human's."

Citrine held Whismur in her hands, noting how it was awake and frantic from the noise. Lotad was still croaking sleepily on her lap, murmuring like it was sleep-talking.

"I don't believe Mr Riley actually approved of this," she sighed.

At that, Citrine chortled nervously, "he gave up, I guess."

A Poochyena crawled under Citrine's arm, itching for a cuddle and getting a little rub on the head in return. The Secret Base was serene and evergreen, a little haven for Pokemon, habituated by one friendly human.

In a way, the Gym Leader of Rustboro City felt utter admiration for this girl. She didn't know many that could come so near to the Mightyena Pack, after all.

The blonde girl, with a tad of branches in her hair, pulled herself to her feet.

Composing herself as best as one could right after a woozy awakening, she gave the older girl a sweet, polite greeting.

"I'll be in your care, Miss Roxanne," Citrine held out a hand in lieu of a handshake.

Roxanne took the hand, wincing at the smear of mud on her fingers.

"It would be my pleasure, Citrine," she spoke back, calm and retaining a professional facade. "I'll put in my utmost to ensure your safety in our trip toward Verdanturf City."

 

 

_ The first step is bravery; The second step is resolution; The third step, is the journey. _

 

"Hold on tight," Roxanne warned the girl.

Citrine put her hands hesitantly on the Graveler, not knowing where to grab. The arms? but it used its arms to climb. The back was full of shallow and sharp rocks, and the only comfortable crevices it had was probably the mouth-- it probably wouldn't like that. 

Instead, Citrine pulled her arms around the Pokemon, obtaining a semblance of a tight hug around it-- seemingly alright with it, the Graveler stretched its arms out toward the steep rock wall.

Roxanne was crouching on her own Graveler, managing an easier grip on the Pokemon's back. She was used to travelling like this, and Citrine seemed to understand why Riley requested her as an escort now.

Graveler seemed to be climbing at an awfully steady pace, careful not to jostle the girl on its back. Roxanne, though, seemed to spindle rapidly upward, reaching the top of the cliff in mere seconds.

Citrine didn't like feeling like a burden, but she already felt her grip loosen from the chapped rocks. She didn't complain, but bit down on her lip and clutched tighter, bearing with the climb.

Graveler hefted itself over the edge, helping the girl to her feet.

Roxanne waited by a rock, offering the girl some water as a refreshment as she arrived. She wasn't fazed by the taxing journey at all, and actually seemed eager to keep going a little longer from here.

Citrine wasn't too exhausted, but the sun was a glaring fire against her eyes. Even her Lotad had to stay inside its Poke Ball, fearing roughage. 

"Is this your first time out of Rustboro?"

Citrine was surprised Roxanne even spoke to her. 

The older girl was rather unsociable, coming on only as a responsible chaperone. It's been a few tough hours since they left Rusturf Tunnel, but the only conversation they've had was about safety issues.

"I... I've been to Dewford, with my brother, somewhere around last year," she admitted to her, rather embarrassed, "all the adults I've known were rather paranoid of the idea of me going out alone. I've been on this mountain with my brother though, camping."

"You're quite sheltered, aren't you," Roxanne mused, unpacking the lunch boxes and offering Citrine a rice ball, "I do think it's odd, but I won't pry."

_ It's because last time I went out of the area, I almost died, but yeah-- _

"So, Miss Roxanne," she accepted the food gratefully, settling down at the side and watching the Pokemon begin munching on their own shares, "why did you... agree to bringing me over the mountains? Isn't it leaving your gym unsupervised for a number of days?"

Roxanne had exceptional table manners, Citrine couldn't help but be in awe.

She didn't speak while eating. She ate with her mouth closed, and chewed quietly. She had a handkerchief and everything, even though this was a mountain! 

In her presence, Citrine felt exceedingly vulgar.

"It's the responsibility of the seniors to look after their juniors, is it not?" Roxanne brimmed with a prideful smile, "The weekly Gym Test has been canceled this week, thus I have a free schedule for seven days. It would be alright if I took a little excursion in the event of a change of pace, don't you agree?"

And unfortunately, Citrine agreed.

After all, because of this, she managed to get some alone time with Roxanne,  _ the Roxanne! _

"Miss Roxanne," she burst with excitement, leaving her spot and rushing up to the older girl, "you were an alumnus of Trainers' School, weren't you? How did you juggle your studies and Pokemon Training? How did you choose your specialty? Was your first Pokemon a Geodude? Where did you find a Nosepass?"

"Woah, take your time," Roxanne had to take a moment of air. "The trip would take three days. We have plenty of time to get those questions answered one by one."

"I'll do my best!"


	5. the stones may rain, but the climb continues.

 

_ Experience is stronger than Wisdom. _

 

"Lotty, Bubble!" Citrine commanded, "Whismy, Pound!"

Gleaming blue globules burped from Lotad's mouth, spindling toward the little Geodude from a distance. Pelting across the rock Pokemon, the Geodude failed to dodge it.

Whismur scrambled ahead on its tiny feet, hopping in the semblance of a bunny as it rammed its head into the other Geodude, causing it to step back in a flinch.

"Rock Throw!" Roxanne commanded.

Rough pebbles rose from the ground, tearing forward in a rapid shower. Lotad and Whismur were rammed by the rocks, losing balance and direction in the continuous wave. Lotad stood confused, but Whismur had its face on the ground like it just  _ gave up _ .

"Lotty, Absorb!"

"Geodude, Tackle!"

The fierce boulder charged right into the Lotad before it could attack, knocking it out. 

And just like that-- the battle was over.

Biting down on her lip, a pout rising, Citrine took a deep breath. Then, with hard force, she bowed low, "thanks for the battle!" she raised her tone.

The sudden noise made even Roxanne flinch, "no need to be so grateful, it was only a battle!" she fretted to ease the girl. 

"No, I'm just an amateur, so I'm grateful I get the opportunity!" Citrine insisted.

It seemed Citrine didn't have any Potions on hand, but her bag was packed with lots of Berries. Roxanne took to spraying Lotad with a burst of medicine while Citrine decided to start up a fire for lunch.

Lotad winced, the disinfectant stinging it as it woke up and looked up with its wide, hard leaf, standing straight on its little stubby feet.

It looked past its oversized head, tilted aside to get a better look of Roxanne-- then seemed to suddenly realize,  _ this isn't my owner!! _

Roxanne had never seen a Lotad actually jump in surprise before, but this one leaped, squeaked, and scrambled away whimpering little cries. Then it crashed headfirst into a wall.

"Lotty?!" Citrine freaked out, witnessing the scene from a distance.

She left the fire to the Geodude, and rushed over to pick up the little Pokemon. It seemed overjoyed to see her again, and clung on tearfully.

"Sorry about that, Miss Roxanne," she muttered with a sigh, cradling the little Kappa in her arms as she approached the older girl, "my Lotad's a little timid."

Whismur bolted up like the dead-- _ I mean, the live _ \-- and looked around.

It ascertained that the enemies were gone, and bounced back up, murmuring softly as it crawled toward Citrine's leg.

"Oh, you were faking it! I knew it!" she reprimanded, crouching down.

Geodude came by, curious. The two Pokemon locked eyes, Whismur hiding behind its Trainer's feet and Geodude inching closer to it, the two engaged in some sort of silent conversation.

Then Geodude poked Whismur in the ear.

And Whismur immediately used Uproar, in a sort of irritated shriek.

Geodude was ready to fight back, but Roxanne scrambled to pick it up, soothing it and returning it to its Poke Ball quickly.

"Whismy, heel, HEEL!" Citrine had a bit more trouble, because an Uproar was hard to settle down from. The little thing was struggling out of her arms, like a little ball of squishy thing threatening to destroy that Poke Ball in Roxanne's hands.

Roxanne covered her ears from the unbearable volume, and somehow, she felt like she was getting indiscriminately insulted by this Pokemon that couldn't even speak her language.

It took another while for the infuriated plush toy to settle down, and it was left to munch on a Cheri Berry in the corner while lunch was cooking.

"Whismy's a naughty one," Citrine couldn't help but laugh bashfully at that, "he can fight when he wants to, but he's quick to give up once things take a turn. Lotty is a little more eager, but she's scared of everything once the battle's over!"

Roxanne was highly amused, watching the pot of Berry Stew boil over the fire, "your Pokemon are really expressive," she observed, "they're... rather open with you."

And Citrine wholeheartedly agreed.

"Well, I've really always let them do all they've wanted," she gave her own hypothesis, "Miss Roxanne, your Geodude were _ trained _ to fight and be strong in the wild. They're obedient and genuinely adore you, so I guess 'discipline'  _ does _ build character."

Lotad bumped its wide beak against the girl's ankle, then lowered its head.

Citrine retrieved a bottle of water from her backpack, and twisted it open, taking a few large gulps before emptying it over the Pokemon's large lily pad.

It seemed Whismur wanted some too, trotting over and tugging at the girl's knees.

The scene made Roxanne feel a sort of beauty in their chemistry. It was intimate like a family, yet respectable, free and understanding, like best friends. 

Citrine didn't raise those Pokemon to be strong. She had them for companionship, and she asked for nothing more.

"Why do you want to travel?" Roxanne decided to ask, curiosity taking over her.

The girl turned to Roxanne, and smiled so confidently, "I'm going to complete my brother's research!"

There was when Roxanne's interest peaked. 

"Brother?"

Citrine removed the pot from the fire, putting it out quickly and glamouring at the finished food. "my brother's a Berry Collector, his name is... uh, Quartz!"

Roxanne froze. "Quartz?" her mouth hung agape in disbelief, "Quartz Kernel? The author of the latest Official Berry Encyclopedia at the sheer age of sixteen?"

"Precisely!" Citrine grinned, "he's awesome, ain't he?"

"You're his younger sister?" Roxanne felt the entire bag of berries and notorious book thievery now made sense, "wait, you don't have a copy of the book yourself?"

Citrine shook her head, taking a bowl and scooping the Berry Stew to serve, "he said it wasn't complete. His Hoenn journey was rushed, so he had plenty he didn't finish investigating. My job is to start over and apparently write a whole new, better version of the book, and call it 'The Complete Official Berry Encyclopedia', apparently."

"I can't believe Riley kept this information from my knowledge!" Roxanne gasped, taking the bowl with gratitude, "I am an avid admirer of his work!"

"He includes every possible information, which is cool," Citrine couldn't help but agree, "how did he even find out how long it'd take for an Oran Berry to grow, in different soil? He even lists out what Pokeblocks could come out of it in different combinations!"

"His commitment is commendable in every degree," Roxanne insisted. "However, why would he leave his research to you?"

Citrine chuckled at that, "well, that's... a long story."

"We have time," Roxanne reminded her.

 

 

_ Strength isn't an illusion, it's an effort. _

 

It takes four days for a normal climber to get through the valleys from Rustboro to Verdanturf. With the aid of Pokemon, even a normal Trainer could make it in three and a half days.

"Maybe it's because the fluffy Pokemon aren't with me..." she muttered, rubbing her numb palms together, noting how they felt a tad cold, "Lotty and Whismy aren't enough to make sure I don't get chilly at night."

Whismur was comfortably-sized plush toy in her arms, and Lotad seemed to like hanging around the crook of her neck. Her hands and feet though, were like ice, even in the comfort of the sleeping bag.

Wrapped up in a coat for the damp mountain morning, Citrine shivered. 

Roxanne, with a brewed, warm cup of hot chocolate, sat down beside her.

"So, where will you be headed after you reach Verdanturf?" Roxanne spoke up, watching the younger girl with a rather concerned eye.

Citrine blew on her drink, not really sure when would be a great time to start drinking, "the forest," her answer was rather matter-of-fact. If she started drinking now, she'd scald her tongue without knowing and that would be trouble, "I'm meeting up with Miss Wallene before that, though."

"So you get transferred from one guardian to the next," Roxanne concluded, "but you wish to travel the world, don't you? Surely, you must have planned a route from there."

At that, the blonde pulled open her PokeNav, viewing the town map. "I'll head on to Mauville, up toward Mt Chimney, then toward Fortree," she told the older girl, "my final goal would be the Berry Master's house in Route 123."

"You won't head toward Dewford?" Roxanne questioned, blowing on her own cup and taking a quick sip.

"Maybe, if Lotty evolves and can surf me across..." Citrine muttered to herself, meeting her Lotad in the eye and giving a nervous chuckle.

Whismur let out a whine, reaching with its stubby arms in the direction of the cup. Citrine lowered it, letting the little thing have a drink.

"I think you're spoiling your Pokemon," Roxanne noted.

"Really?" Citrine was surprised. She didn't think she was. "...Well, there are things I want to do on the way too. Challenge some gyms, attend some contests, maybe... I'm travelling the world, so it'd be a waste not to do any of that along the way, don't you think?"

Roxanne nodded, agreeing. "Wait, the gyms?"

Citrine giggled, bashful, "well, I already lost a battle against you, Miss Roxanne, I guess I really don't stand a chance against Gym Leaders so, it's kind of a distant dream, maybe..."

Citrine trailed off.

Roxanne was giving her a very displeased, pouting look that almost seemed scrutinizing.

"...yes?" she tried.

Roxanne sighed breath-fully, expressing her disappointment very obviously. Citrine felt cold sweat build up behind her neck-- did she do something wrong.

"Look, Citrine," Roxanne murmured, turning away irritated, "if you give up so quickly, nothing will ever come true. If you want to do something--  **do it** !" Her voice raised in the last two words, sharp and almost angry. "You won't get any stronger if you resign after trying once!"

People who came by her gym were ever frustrated-- there were many that always failed, yet, Roxanne admired to see them come in week after week striving with more determination than before. She loved to see courage and resolve build up in people.

As someone that crawled her way up to leadership with only effort in her striving, she _ hated  _ people who gave up quickly.

Citrine flinched, clutching Whismur tight as she shrank. The hot chocolate flew from her hands. Lotad, reacting quickly, hopped under it and caught it on its lily pad.

"I'm sorry!" Citrine shrieked, fearful, "just--"

"Fight me again!" Roxanne demanded, "I'm gonna keep making you challenge me until we reach Verdanturf, got it?"

"Yes, ma'am!"


	6. and final words draw this to a close.

 

_ Part of the journey is the lull. _

"Welcome, Citrine-- wait, why are you so dirty?" Wallene froze at the door.

Citrine was covered in dust, dirt and mud. Well, it was reasonable seeing she didn't have a decent wash in three days, but this was overkill.

Her long sleeved shirt was ripped down the shoulder, and her hair was bundled in a mess of rocks. It was an awful sight, and Roxanne scratched her cheek, a bashful admittance of error.

"Ehe," Citrine didn't know where to begin, "stuff happened on the way."

"Would it be trouble if I were to borrow the bath, Miss Wallene?" Roxanne spoke up, politely bowing before making an entrance.

Wallene watched with muted surprise, but promptly led them in. "Of course, the bath was just drawn," she was quick, frantic, "neither of you are injured, are you? Wally, could you bring the first aid kit? Oh, please stay the night, Roxanne, we're really grateful you brought Citrine over the mountains, so please have dinner and breakfast before you--"

"Alright, alright, Wallene, calm down," Citrine fussed, trying her hardest to assure the woman she was alright, "we just had uh, a little too many Pokemon battles up there."

"I'm very sorry for neglecting to care for our health, but I assure you neither of us are seriously injured as we took proper breaks in between," Roxanne held Wallene's hands in hers warmly, "please forgive me for my oversight."

Wallene actually flushed, "no-- it's fine!" she seemed horrified to have a renowned Gym Leader actually wholeheartedly apologize to her, "please raise your head! it's fine, really!"

As the two had their adult fuss over responsibility and the lack thereof, Citrine removed her belt, placing it and her Poke Balls on the cabinet.

"Hi, Citrine," there was Wally, holding up a few towels in his hands, and a first aid kit in the other. He called out to the girls with a meek and reserved smile, approaching them with quick little steps, like a rabbit-- "the bath is drawn, so go right ahead."

Citrine took the towel, grateful, plucking off her shoes, she hoped mud wouldn't be tracked in. 

"Miss Roxanne, let's wash off the mud before it sticks!" she called out to the older girl.

 

—

 

Soaking in the tub together, they seemed content. 

"Nothing beats a nice, long soak after a journey!" Roxanne was in bliss. She leaned back, and although there wasn't much space with two in the tub, she enjoyed herself.

Citrine scooped up a handful of water, watching it stream across her fingers and return to the still flow in the tub. There was a cut across the side of her palm, just a scratch, not enough to bleed. Perhaps, it was from when she fell this morning.

Her and Roxanne were both covered in cuts and scratches. For Citrine, she sustained numerous slashes in her arms when Nosepass' Rock Throw misfired; for Roxanne, it was when Whismur's Uproar managed to shoot them right back.

As for the mud, they realized a little too late that Rock Throw and Water Gun don't make the most hygienic combination possible.

"You're slowly, but steadily getting stronger," Roxanne told her, leaning on the edge of the bath tub, "can you feel it? I think your Lotad might evolve soon."

At that, Citrine brimmed with happiness, "I thought so too!" she was excited. "I guess we really are getting a little tougher now."

"Be a little prouder of the fact, would you?" Roxanne sneered, "a Gym Leader has recognized you, Citrine! you can boast about it if you want."

"No! I wouldn't dare--" Citrine shrank, "I don't want to uh, get too big of a head and all..."

Roxanne lay back, resigned, "well, you're a humble one."

Citrine sighed, unable to return the statement.

"I do think you've got a long way to go, though," Roxanne decided, "you should get more Pokemon, Citrine. A Pokemon that can bail you out, like a Poochyena."

"A Poochyena?" Citrine wondered about the suggestion. It would keep her warm at night... "is it for their ability to Run Away?" 

"Running away is often a good choice, Citrine," Roxanne said defensively, "perhaps even a Wingull, so it can use Light Screen or Protect in a pinch. To protect your own well-being, of course-- currently, your Pokemon don't make up a balanced team."

Citrine pouted, "I'll think about it."

 

—

 

"So," she turned to the older girl, a concerned look in her eyes, "is there really no ulterior reason you decided to escort me to this town, Miss Roxanne?"

Hearing that, Roxanne felt a little seen through. 

She retained her calm demeanor, looking toward the empty sky outside the window, as if something to avoid this conversation would appear if she looked long enough.

"A girl I met last week, she defeated me in a gym battle," Roxanne admitted, beginning to enlighten the younger girl, "and when she did, I realized... I was placed as a Gym Leader to educate the young ones regarding the importance of basic Trainer Knowledge on a Journey, but knowledge itself, wasn't everything."

Citrine considered the older girl, and wondered if she should stop her.

To ask her if this was personal, and if Roxanne didn't really want to share something like this to a girl that wasn't even all that close to her to begin with.

"I buried myself in books, thinking that it would help me succeed further," Roxanne sounded frustrated, a steaming determination in her eyes, "it got me as far as a Gym Leader, after all."

Citrine stopped, realizing something.

_ Was Roxanne referring to... _

"That girl was much younger than I was... she might have been younger than you, Citrine," Roxanne beamed with a sort of admiration in her, "but she taught me that knowledge within books are nothing compared to knowledge absorbed from personal relations with nature."

_...Sapphire Birch _ , she breathed.

And suddenly, everything just made sense now.

Roxanne came to soul-search. To experience the wisdom of nature after suffering a defeat against Sapphire, to find out what she was missing, and to fill in the gaps that made up her flaws as best as she could-- to improve herself.

"You inspire me, Citrine," Roxanne turned to the girl, eliciting a surprised gasp from the girl, "after all, you made the decision to go out and experience the understanding yourself, instead of being content with all the books in the vast Rustboro Library."

Citrine's eyes met Roxanne's deeply.

And somehow, Citrine began to cry.

Not because she was sad-- not because she was touched-- but simply because she was overwhelmed. Blown away in utter admiration, for this young girl, so young-- yet so mature. So amazing, yet so humble.

For Miss Roxanne, who she looked up to so much.

And for the praise she definitely, definitely did not deserve at all.

 

—

 

Citrine saw her off, watching her ride her Graveler on a rapid route back toward Rustboro. After an initial goodbye, and one curt wave, Roxanne was gone beyond the cliff. 

Citrine ran her fingers around the gleaming Stone Badge pinned on the inner side of her vest.

**"Badges aren't just the proof of strength. They do, to some degree, hold strength," Roxanne explained, "the more you gather, the stronger your Pokemon can and will be."**

Reaching for the third Poke Ball on her belt, she eyed the Pokemon inside as it slept, not rousing.

_ If I gather enough badges, I'll be able to use you in battle _ , she spoke only in her heart,  _ then, you'll cheer up, right? _


	7. seek, find, gain.

_Seek, and you shall find._

 

 

"I didn't know you had a Ralts, Wally," Citrine mused, crouching down to meet the little, humanoid white Pokemon with a cute green bowl cap head, rubbing it tenderly. "Or a Kecleon, or any Pokemon at all. When did you grow up?"

The Ralts was compliant and almost seemed to blush slightly, standing meekly in place.

It was very gentle.

"Oh, she... isn't mine," Wally was a little hesitant about it. "A guy I met back in Petalburg borrowed it to me... and well, there was this earthquake and we got separated... so I still have it with me now."

Citrine was quiet-- _that was Ruby_ ,  wasn't it? _So this Ralts was Ruru._

Whismur was interested in the other Pokemon, looking at it close, eyeing it from every possible direction, rubbing its head against the equally-sized Pokemon, who seemed awfully troubled.

"They're getting along," Citrine breathed out in relief. Unlike when Whismur instantly antagonized Geodude-- maybe because this Ralts was Gentle and patient?

Wally's Kecleon tilted his head to the side, curious about the new person in the house. Then, it met eyes with Citrine's Lotad, (who flinched,) and began chasing it around the house.

Lotad was tearful, scrambling for its life, while Kecleon, giggling in a jolly manner, probably thought they were playing tag.

"And I guess those two are getting along too," she decided.

"Really?" Wally didn't agree. He was rather tempted to return his Kecleon into its ball.

 

  ー  

 

The forest was hiding, the wind was a chill. The mountains in the morning, brimming with only the freshest air, was very worth the early climb.

Citrine sat beside Wally at the edge of the cliff, their feet dangling off the edge, and their hands holding a warm cup of morning tea as they watched the sun rise.

"Is it true that you can't feel pain?" Wally spoke up nervously, not too sure if this was an insensitive thing to ask about. His eyes turned to the numerous scratches he found on the older girl, patched up with band aids and disinfectant.

"It's true!" Citrine didn't seem bothered by it at all. In fact, she found it something boast-worthy against a boy like Wally, "pinch me, punch me, I wouldn't notice a thing!"

Citrine had met Wally a number of times before, either from trips to Petalburg-Rustboro, or visits from Wallene. It was hard for them not to get close, as they weren't too drastically apart in age.

"That's nice..." Wally sulked. He would do anything to not be able to feel pain. His condition was what rendered him so sickly and crippled, after all-- "but, it doesn't mean you're immortal, are you? You still get hurt."

Citrine nodded, grateful Wally understood. 

"But, I won't let it hold me back," Citrine gripped her fist, turning to the younger, "my Pokemon are strong, after all! I trust them to protect me, and to help me if I'm harmed."

Wally paused, "trust?" he seemed foreign to the topic. He turned to his Kecleon, who stared back stoically.

Citrine chuckled, rubbing Whismur on the head as if purred and leaned in for another nap.

"Pokemon live and dwell with us. We fight with them, we live with them-- but they're a little more than just pets we keep around," she explained, "to me, they're my guardians, my protectors, and also my siblings. I look after them, and they take care of me."

That actually made Wally stop to think. "So your Pokemon, to you, are family?" he inquired just to receive some sort of extra confirmation.

Citrine hummed, positive about it. "To others, Pokemon are comrades. Partners; or even friends. It's different for everyone, and not everyone can have special relationships with their Pokemon," she turned to the sky, "to me-- they're like younger brothers and sisters."

"Brothers, huh," Wally rubbed the Poke Ball in his hand as Kecleon returned to it, looking at its trainer in the eye. Wally had no way of knowing or understanding his Pokemon-- but somehow, he felt that Kecleon was telling him something.

Something, and Wally could only guess.

"Bonds are built on love and trust," Citrine said firmly, "that's how it is for humans, and that's how it is for Pokemon as well. Well, don't think too hard about it, Wally! It's something that comes by before you even notice."

The girl, closing the hot water flask, slung it over her shoulder and stood up. Picking up the chilled storage box of berries, she glanced at Wally once, expecting him to catch up.

Wally got up quickly, ready to follow her on the trip out of the forest. 

Whismur retreated into its Poke Ball without being told to-- and here, even whilst she walked without a single Pokemon standing by her side-- Wally felt she was untouchable.

There was a strength of confidence flowing from her-- one that called not to be defied, one that only the brave could dare to fight against, yet couldn't be sure to emerge victorious.

Her Whismur and her Lotad weren't strong enough to be feared like this.

It was her unmistakable belief that nothing could harm her, that made wild Pokemon falter at the sight.

 

 _Maybe_ \-- Wally found himself wondering, spotting three Poke Balls on her belt-- _it was because she had a personal bodyguard right by her side._

 

_Rivals are gained in face of common... friends._

 

"Lotty, Bubble!" Citrine commanded, facing the wild Wurmple.

To her surprise, instead of the usual blue blobs, a sharp ray of water bubbles shot right out, swallowing the dark pink caterpillar and knocking it out for good.

Wait no, not "for good", this wasn't that kind of show--

Citrine paused, horrified, "wait, that wasn't Bubble!"

Lotad jolted, shocked to hear it did something wrong. Eyes tearful and trembling, it looked back on its owner fearfully, expecting to be reprimanded. No, but she did it normally! Why was it different? Oh, now Lotad was scared of itself. It went dashing toward its owner, already crying.

"I think that was Bubblebeam!" Citrine was awestruck, too confused to provide a smile of assurance before the Lotad came barreling into her arms, "but I reckon you should've evolved before you could learn it..."

Her eyes landed on the pond at her side, and decided to set Lotad adrift to calm itself. 

"What moves do Lotads learn before they evolve again," she tried to recall from her past memories, "I don't have a Pokedex, so I can't prevent evolutions or anything... hmm... maybe reality works differently from the games?"

She sat down by the pond and opened her boxed lunch-- letting Whismur out to play, she continued to mull over the issue.

The Wurmple from before, after a bite of a rejuvenating berry, felt the urge to cross the river. It was currently waiting for Lotad express to arrive at port. Lotad, calming down with the chilly refreshment of the pond water, slowly waddled its way toward the shore.

The only thing different from usual was...

"The pond!" she realized, a light bulb figuratively flashing over her head, her hand reached through the stale waves and hooking the little platypus right out of the water, "I've got it, Lotty, you managed to learn 'Nature Power'!" she rejoiced, "...or, I think, at least. Wanna go try it out?"

Wurmple spun String Shot toward Citrine's arm, annoyed that it lost its ride across the waters. But Citrine didn't really notice it much. Lotad was petrified by the sudden movement, but that was nothing out of the ordinary.

"Little Wurmple!" she beamed, turning toward it, disregarding the white webbing wrapped like a cast around her forearm. "We're gonna go a little deeper into the forest, so would you watch our stuff here with Whismy?"

Whismur was baffled, and Wurmple was culturally shocked.

Oddly enough, Wurmple was given an affectionate rub on the head, then it was entrusted the belongings of this human child it'd met just a while ago.

 _Confused_ was an understatement in this situation.

It turned toward the side, and found Whismur grumbling, glaring daggers at it. Evidently, Wurmple was a rather unwanted guest in this situation, and the little bug Pokemon wholeheartedly agreed.

If it left right now, the human wouldn't mind, right? He'll just go around the pond instead of crossing it...

As it wriggled away, Whismur seemed unpleasantly alarmed, squeaking a Growl at the imbecile. _Oh, how dare you walk away after the human trusted you!_ or something?

Wurmple was now irritably conflicted. 

Then began the quarreling. Growl against Growl, Pound against Tackle, and the emergency diving-for-that-bag-of-berries that seemed to never end. 

Breathing laboured and bodies exhausted, they stood face to face. Mud crushed under their feet, and nothing was in their way except each other. One strike-- one strike would decide the outcome of this battle-- just one more.

Sucking in the steel air of resolve, they charged forward with a cry of war--

A gurgling, carp-ish noise croaked from the side, bubbling delightfully.

The two swerved sharply aside, screeching to a sharp stop.

Both turned toward the pond, where a Magikarp was pleasantly munching on the lunch box laid out to cool. There was only one sandwich left of five that used to be there, and Magikarp inhaled the last one, licking it lips scrumptiously, grunted a satisfied burp.

A wave of murder was shot in its direction, and it froze in horror. Looking to the side as if turning away the blame, it steadily drifted back to the innerside of the pond, sinking into the waters.

 

Whismur used Uproar.

 

-

 

_ You look angry, you must be hungry. _

 

"What a mess," Citrine couldn't help but sigh again.

Before her was an absolute devastation, crushed food and half-bitten berries littered all over the ground. A Magikarp was floating on the water, fainted. The lunch box was in smithereens, food spilled out or gone completely. The mat she laid out was half-submerged into the pond, crumpled and losing its purpose.

Wurmple and Whismur sat in the corner, turned toward the bark of the tree in reflection.

Lotad, perched on her head, looked around frantically as if it was afraid of whatever-which tornado that swept past the area.

"I'm not angry, you two," Citrine called out to them, wondering if that would make the two ease up, "so come here and help me clean up, will you?

Seemingly cheered up instantly, Whismur flipped right over, hopping over at the call-- except, it slipped from the mud on the ground and pushed over little Wurmple, toppling themselves across the ground.

There was a moment of silence.

Angry String Shot spindled out of the little bug Pokemon, a gooey mess wrapping itself around the plushy-looking Pokemon, who charged insistently at the Wurmple in a panicked mix of Astonish and Uproar.

They rolled to the left, swirled dangerously over the edge of the pond, and crumpled back down in another baby wrestle.

"Lotty," Citrine looked up to her own head, pointing at the two, "Nature Power."

  ー  

"First, cold water," Citrine calmly explained, placing the metal pot on the portable gas stove she brought. Picking up the wrapped handkerchief by her side, she opened it, spilling half-eaten Oran Berries into the mixture, "then I add the berries, and turn the heat on medium."

Lotad watched from the side, curious and nervous about that fire, worried for-- _ everything!  _ should she be putting it out?  _ It's fire, after all-- fire! _

Citrine reached over to Lotad, retrieving the wooden spatula she had left on the Pokemon's head, "then, I start stirring."

Whismur and Wurmple were highly interested, inching closer to the girl, but Wurmple stayed a little bit further away because it was wary of the fire. The three ducked behind the human, only peeking out to see what was going on.

"I'll start slow," she stirred, "then, gradually, spin faster..." one hand on the handle of the pot, she pulled the scoop from one end to the other, going in quickly circles with a little effort.

The mixture thickened like hard jelly-- and in a practiced flash, she swooped the heat shut, making the final, shaping turn for her concoction-- a blue Poffin formed from the mixture, a delightful success.

"Dry Poffin, done!" she cheered victoriously, Whismur and Lotad leaped onto her hand in excitement. Wurmple, in a feverish moment, leaped onto Citrine's lap, eager to see.

"I've made some at home before, good thing I practiced!" Citrine spoke to herself, "now we'll have no trouble fixing up all those ruined berries!"

Citrine carefully picked out the piping hot confection from the pot, gently breaking it into two and fours-- and led one piece into Wurmple's mouth.

Wurmple, exhilarated from the delicious aroma, was munching on it before it'd realized.

And it _ loved  _ it. It dove toward her hands for more, crawling at Citrine's wrists to reach the blue object at the end--

"Now, now, let's share it out, alright?" Citrine couldn't suppress a giggle.

Whismur and Lotad, apparently alarmed, squawked in alarm as Wurmple got more of the baked good. Their mouths watering in anticipation, Whismur shared a small bite of it from Wurmple.

Filling up the next pot of cold water, Citrine reached for the Persim berries. She turned to her Lotad, which sat quietly by her side, itching to dive for the blue Poffin but wasn't eager to socialize just yet-- "let's make another one for you, alright?" she decided.

Lotad nodded, enthusiastic.

Whismur squeaked in alarm, jealous.

"Gather up the Leppa Berries for me, Whismy," Citrine called behind her quickly, an order, "I'll whip one up for you if you do!"

Citrine laid a freshly made pink Poffin before Lotad, crumbling it into bite-sized pieces before serving it on a handkerchief. Lotad buried itself into it quickly, crashing its lily pad headfirst into soil sometimes.

Just then, Whismur had managed to pick up a decent amount of scattered Leppa berries, placing them in a small mound beside Citrine.

Rubbing Whismur on the head, Citrine went to work, cooking up a Spicy Poffin that Whismur grandly adored much more than the one Wurmple had.

Catching the drift, Wurmple scrambled for Oran Berries. Lotad joined in the Berry-gathering fray after that, and Citrine churned out Poffin after Poffin. Keeping some for future use, she watched the Pokemon have their fill.

She'd learned how to make these from her older brother, who called it a Sinnoh Specialty like Pokeblocks in Hoenn. Pokeblocks needed Berry Blenders from Contest Halls to make, but she could whip these up anywhere as long as she had fire, a pot, and water. 

She kept a little mountain of failed Foul Poffins in the corner, hoping they wouldn't see it.

Laying down on the ground, exhausted, she sighed in relief as her Pokemon seemed stuffed and satisfied. And not quarreling anymore, thank god.

Wurmple crawled up to Citrine's stomach, finding it a nice spot to curl up and sleep.

The little stubs of feet were ticklish to her, and Citrine burst into soft laughter. Lotad perched at her neck, and Whismur found itself a spot under her arm.

"Wait, don't sleep! The sun's gonna set!" she complained, but none of the Pokemon sensed any dire need to actually get up.

Citrine could just hop up and throw them off, but that was honestly equal to criminal offense--

She sighed, giving in.

Putting her hand carefully on Wurmple, avoiding the spikes at its tail, Citrine caressed its back, soothingly easing it into sleep.

Tomorrow, she'll set off toward Mauville.

But for now, she'll sleep.


	8. weakness will make you strong one day.

_ Adapt and Overcome. _

 

Lotad squeezed its eyes shut as if it was scared.

Its body gleamed, a white coat of blinding light making it shudder but clench the ground. Its body stretched, grew-- and formed appendages, long arms and feet-- then dimmed out to its colours.

Now a light shade of green, its previous cobalt blue dawned into a light turquoise. The familiar yellow bill was now red, and in place of the webbed fingers Citrine expected, Lotty had red claws as fingers and toes.

She was the size of a human child, with a strange, sombrero-like lily pad as a hat.

Citrine watched, dazed-- then, was just overcome with  _ emotion _ .

Tears of immense joy spilled from her eyes as she lunged at the newly-evolved Lombre, causing it to shriek in horror at the sudden affection.

But as Citrine's arms clasped around it, she was grimed all over in some slimy, mucous membrane-- honestly, she could only enjoy it for half a second before it was just horrifyingly  _ nasty _ .

They burst into laughter, disgusting all over but this was  _ amazing _ .

Scrambling their way into the Pokemon Center, receiving skeptic looks, Citrine asked for the way to the dorm showers.

 

ー

 

Lombre clunked clumsily with its new, overly long arms, finding it awkward to have Whismy and Wurmy be so much smaller now. But Wurmple crawled over the bigger Pokemon, finding itself comfortable on its head, and they had fun running around like that.

Whismu chased them around in circles across Citrine's feet as they walked, the girl giggling as she offmindedly warned them it was dangerous.

The evolution made Lotty uncomfortable, but Citrine adored how the other two were trying to act as they used to. Whismy and Wurmy then used Lotty as a shield in their indecipherable banters-- it seemed the evolution meant nothing changed to them after all.

They walked the road to Mauville joyfully.

The meadows were vast evergreen, flowers brimming in each corner as plain, green grass stretched beyond the eyes could see, lifting and sinking in little hills and valleys.

Across another stretch they would reach roads, and be right around Mauville-- the biggest and most developed town of Hoenn-- the town of trade, the bright and shiny city of fun, Mauville!

The journey was smooth for one girl, three Pokemon, and great weather.

But of course, things just didn't stay easy. Whismur was growing impatient.

It was the most active and rambunctious in Pokemon Battles, and it loved strength more than anyone else-- yet, he couldn't evolve.

Citrine witnessed him chasing after wild Electrike like he was a demon of hell, desperately defeating everyone with Rollout or Rock Smash or whatever was effective.

Citrine couldn't deny it was amusing, but it was acting too rash.

Whismur felt weak, and it didn't like that. 

 

ー

 

"It's cold tonight," Citrine realized, seeing her breath turn white as she exhaled-- no wonder her fingers felt a little numb. Pulling out a sweater from her backpack, she decided she would camp out here tonight, in an outcropping of numerous rocks.

Lombre sat down with a huff, and Wurmple, on its head, breathed out a similar sigh of exhaustion.

The three Pokemon scrambled around, Wurmple whipping up some string for bedding or pillows; Lombre hunting for firewood and food, and Whismur making a fireplace by pushing rocks around.

Citrine found herself watching the sun set toward the edge of the world. Sharp gusts of wind break through her hair-- one of her hair ties snapped, her heavy blonde hair cascading down in messy waves.

The gale ripped through her, dragging one foot off balance and forcing her to take a step back in balance.

The firewood in Lotty's hands were thrown out as it tripped, and one of Wurmple's freshly made pillows were carried right off.

_ A storm's coming, _ she realized almost immediately.

_ A bad one. _

 

"Lotty, forget the firewood!" she snapped toward her Pokemon in a frenzy, scooping up the Berries on the ground and packing up, "Whismy, Uproar! Warn the Pokemon around us; Wurmy, gather the things, we're going to make a run for the town by dark!"

 

-

 

 

_ I won't let you go. _

 

Citrine and her Pokemon wrapped up in a hollow tree trunk that night, shivering and wet. The storm pounded with incredible hail, shuddering the forest but without a strike of thunder.

It was impossible even for Lombre to keep going, so with the dry towel they still had, they bore through the night in freezing weather, praying that sleep would take them to morning.

ー

_ "Citrine?" _

_ "I hear it," she whispered, shushing her brother, "the song of the Whismur." _

_ Quartz was baffled, bewildered-- his sister was young. So, very young-- so sometimes, the things she said were awfully strange. Like right out of fairy tales, she could somehow understand Pokemon as if she were speaking to them in their own language. _

_ Whismur spoke in inaudible mumbles, in a frequency lower than humans could perceive. It was only when they screamed, could they break eardrums. _

_ But Citrine claimed to hear the former-- the little murmurs of the Whismur as they muttered nervously, clambered clumsily, ready to shriek if danger came close-- _

_ "Just one," she told him, "it's alone, close... and scared of something? Like it's begging not to be found..." _

_ Then before Quartz could even respond, she'd taken off, running. _

_ Running toward the tall grass-- bolting, standing spread-armed before a wild Dustox, firm and brave in adrenaline.  _

_ The Dustox was riled, even Quartz could see from afar-- angered, injured? Did a trainer fight it and let it just escape? _

That wasn't good.

_ Dustox furled its wings-- and cut through sharply-- an enraged Gust attack, blown with sheer desire to get rid of a menace. _

_ Citrine, seeing the danger, swirled around-- and scooped up, in her arms, a young Whismur-- exactly what she'd said she heard-- and wrapped it so tightly, even as the poison-barbed winds ripped through her flesh, tearing her skin open in cruel rasps. _

_ Bright red was burned right into Quartz eyes, and never had he ever hated this beautiful shade so, so much. _

_ Her shivering back, sobs choking through her, her trembling arms cradling that Whismur oh-so gently, asking if it was alright-- _

_ This young sister of his-- did she even notice that deadly wound scarred across her back? She couldn't even feel the pain of that wound that would leave even him sobbing in agony.  _

_ And here, Quartz was, frozen in only fear. He'd let her go for one second-- _

_ Rage boiled through him. _

_ "Goukazaru!" his voice came out almost a scream, his Infernape popping right out of its Poke Ball without being called-- almost as if it was aware of just how dire the situation was, as if it had felt the same panic flood through it-- _

_ Quartz had never felt so useless before. _

_ Infernape brought down the Dustox in less than a moment-- but the damage was done and it was permanent. _

_ Blissey ran from its Poke Ball, knowing exactly what it needed to do with its boasted healing moves-- but Quartz was motionless. _

_ He was  _ **_scared_ ** _. _

ー

Citrine shivered, moaning mumbles of a nightmare.

Her breath was ragged, staggered, her heart was beating hard and loud in her chest. She was covered in sweat, and the ringing in her ears were blaring.

Wrenched out into wakefulness-- her fingers white-knuckled over her blankets--  _ blankets? _

She was under a roof.

A house of soft, warm tatami mats, a comforting futon. A homey scent of green tea, and the faint breeze of the outside petrichor, bringing in little chattering of young Pokemon playing outside.

She was wearing a yukata, old but rather fitting. Her hair was scattered by her shoulders, her eyes fogged over by sleepiness.

"I see you're awake, young'un!"

She flicked, not noticing the old lady that was right by the door--

"Now get up, sweetheart! You're getting a bath and we're putting you to some work!"


	9. love is stronger than this.

_ Love you no matter what. _

 

" **The gentle, falling flakes of snow** ," she hymned, prayerfully, beautifully, with a tone lower than her speaking voice-- a delicate harmony, a gentle lullaby, " **binds together in a prayer, to bestow shelter, to grant love** \--"

Cradling the baby Azurill in her hands, she let the Swellow perch sleepily on her shoulder, Poochyena laying its head on her lap. 

" **A song of hope I'll sing** ," she hummed the note so melodiously, not breaking key, singing it just so sweetly, " **to this fleeting wish of mine** ."

Deep in slumber, Citrine watched the Pokemon's tender sleeping faces, absorbed in the gentle soothing atmosphere.

Dressed in a white apron over her usual pink tank top and denim shorts, her hair was pulled to her back in one bulky ponytail. 

She caught sight of Lombre, Whismur and Wurmple scrambling around with boxes upon boxes, helping Old Lady Haruna carry the food stock to the basement.

Old Lady Haruna chased them around with her mighty walking stick, urging them and her trusty Vigoroth to get it done before lunch.

ー

"My Vigoroth found you at dawn, it's a miracle none of you are sick!" she exclaimed as Citrine sipped on warm green tea in the house, "imagine me, waking up to an ape carrying a young girl!"

Citrine couldn't suppress the chuckle that bubbled from her.

Turning to Vigoroth, she smiled with a heartfelt 'Thank you' to it. Vigoroth blushed, waving ts hands in a 'no probs, no probs' manner.

"I'm really sorry to trouble you, Ma'am," Citrine looked down, rather guilty, "we were trying to make it for town, but it seems the storm caught up with us sooner than we could..."

At that, Lady Haruna just burst into boisterous laughter, "well, if you would listen tthat!" she mused, "Vigoroth my dearie, looks like we did them a favour!"

Citrine paused. Wait, what?

"You were in the backyard just now, weren't you?" Haruna pumped herself up for a rather exciting surprise, "why don't you go check out the front lawn?"

Citrine froze.

That's right-- this was the Daycare Place. That annoyingly expensive spot in the outskirts of...

She got up almost too quickly, bolting toward the front door in a scuffle with her Lombre. Wurmple was clinging to her hair for dear life, and Whismur was tragically belted out of her lap.

But outside, the view beyond the fence-- was only beauty.

Mauville City, known for its modern technology and bumbling game centers-- It lay before me, skyscraper after skyscraper, jostled in with short buildings and colorful rooves. Greenery wasn't lacking even from where she stood, and above she could find Pokemon rolling about in the branches, hopping around fountains--

She let out the most amazed gasp she'd ever breathed.

"We're right at the edge of Mauville, sweetheart!" Lady Haruna beamed proudly, as if she'd had this all planned out from the start--

Citrine watched the world light up before her, and her heart brimmed with anticipation.

ー

"Bluk Berry Tart!" Citrine gawked at the cakes through the shop's window-- "Mago Berry Pudding? Hnnng, even though I couldn't find a single one of those back in the forests of Verdanturf? I wonder where they grow anyways..."

Bluk Berries are sour, but sweet, so it's the favorite of many-- and apparently, Mago Berries can be sweeter than honey? Oh, how she wished she could refer to that Berry Encyclopedia her brother wrote for her--

"Uhm," the concerned shopkeeper stepped out nervously, "may I help you anyhow?"

"One Berry Parfait, please!" Citrine raised her hand excitedly.

She was going sightseeing today!

 

_ Being weak is fine. _

 

"Whismy, Lotty, stop that!"

Prying Whismur out of Lombre's claws Citrine suppressed the little ball of sheer anger with a hard hug, glomping it tightly even as it struggled to get one last punch in.

Whismur made an Uproar, the loud volume making Citrine flinch and let it go. 

Lombre used Fury Swipes, clawing dangerously in the direction of the plush toy-like Pokemon, who hopped around to around the attacks, bumping over various things in the process.

"Stop it, the babies are watching!" she snapped, reaching out for the Pokemon-- 

Lombre's claws ran through Citrine's arm, leaving a nasty scratch in its wake. Blood sprayed out of the wound, petrifying the two Pokemon instantly.

"Oh no!" Citrine was least shocked of the group, "the pillows! the walls! Wurmy, get a rag before it leaves a stain!"

Holding her handkerchief over the wound, Lotty and Whismy stood and watched-- their owner, blood dripping down her elbows... there was blood spilling from her left ear too, (did Uproar shatter one eardrum?)--  _ their fault _ \-- yet not worried about anything but the walls of the Daycare Center.

For a different reason this time, Whismur used Uproar.

"Wha-What's happenin' back here?!" Lady Haruna burst in, irritated by the noise.

 

ー

 

A patch of cotton at one ear, a wrap of bandages in one arm--

"So Uproar really  _ could _ break eardrums..." she mused with slight interest, "I guess a little hearing deterioration wouldn't be too much of an issue..."

Whismur screeched softly, tugging at her clothes and wrestling in her arms. It didn't like what Citrine just said at all.

"Sorry, sorry," Citrine pulled the Whismur away from her before the little thing accidentally broke another eardrum, "I'll take care of myself, I promise."

Whismur huffed, satisfied.

Her feet dangling over the edge of the cliff, Citrine admired the view of Mauville's mountains before her. Endless greenery pulled through the horizon before her, empty yet so rich.

Lombre and Wurmple were back in the daycare centre, helping Lady Haruna with putting the children to sleep-- yet, she had pulled Whismur aside to talk.

"Hey, Whismy, you remember how we met?"

Whismur perked up, curious.

"Maybe you don't, huh. You were still a baby back then, after all... it's even before my brother set out to Johto," she muttered to herself, "but I remember."

Whismur huffed, stubbornly insisting he remembered-- maybe?

"Even now, I still feel it," she whispered, keeping a tighter grip on Whismur. Her fingers trembling, she closed her eyes and breathed out-- "y'know, I'm actually scared of Dustox now."

Whismur flinched, shooting right back up in alarm.

"I'm fine!" Citrine chuckled, rubbing his head warmly, "I have you, I have Lotty, and I have Wurmy with me now. You guys will protect me, won't you?"

Whismur raised its ears and hopped excitedly, making a show of bravery proudly.

He didn't like it when Citrine wasn't happy, he didn't like it when Citrine showed weakness-- That was exactly why he didn't like to be weak, either.

Slumping down in solemnity, he sat down depressed.

"Are you worried that you won't be strong enough?" Citrine guessed, "or maybe because Lotty's evolved, but you haven't?"

Whismur seemed to get even further disgruntled, so Citrine realized she was right.

"Oh, you," she laughed, cradling the Pokemon in her arms, "I didn't choose to save you that day because I wanted you to be strong, y'know?"

Whismur murmured, annoyed.

"Did you know, Whismy? Not all Pokemon are capable of evolving!" Citrine brought up excitedly, being a stark contrast to her Pokemon's glum mood, "some are capable of evolving twice, too!"

Whismur looked up, now interested.

"I'm sure you've seen your older evolution in Rusturf Tunnel before... Whismur can evolve twice! Isn't that super cool?" 

Whismur now considered himself-- ah, wasn't that awesome? 

"Everyone evolves at different times... Wurmy's gonna evolve quickly, because bug-type Pokemon evolve at early stages-- but because of that, they just aren't as strong sometimes."

Citrine hugged her Pokemon lovingly, a giggle rumbling in her throat.

"You evolve a little later than both Lotty and Wurmy, but that just means you'll grow up so much stronger, right?" 

Somehow, Citrine confident grin that day made Whismur so very happy.

Whismur was delighted, because his own trainer was trying so hard to cheer him up-- His own trainer was assuring him of his own strength.

Maybe there was nothing happier than this.

"That's right!" Citrine remembered something, shuffling through her bag for something hidden right underneath-- "look at this!"

A brown paper package was a little bulky, a piece of paper with words stuck on it-- 

"My brother sent us some mail!" she smiled, "Old Lady Haruna said this came by her door addressed to us. Maybe Quartz is an esper or something... how did he figure we'd reached Mauville, anyways?"

The parcel contained a box-- a cute little box, white-- and inside were  _ rings _ . About seven of them, each with a uniform design of a diamond-shaped carving in the centre. The rings were silver, but probably made of plastic of some sort-- a yellow gem, but not a real stone, was embedded in the center of it.

"What're these?" Citrine wondered, handing one to Whismur, who looked oddly entranced by the strangely pretty object.

A letter was under the box, so she flipped it open for better idea of what was going on--

 

_ Hey C, _

_ did you know that Pokemon  _

_ jewellery is a thing? _

_ \---- Q. _

 

She stopped, confused.

C, was probably short for Citrine. Q, was probably short for Quartz.

Pokemon jewellery? "Did he find this stuff in Johto?" she began to piece some things together, "they sure are pretty... but why's he sending these to me?"

Then it hit her.

"He's throwing away his impulse purchases to his sister?" she sighed. That brother of hers probably spent some money on this, which he didn't need, then didn't have space in his bag, so sent it right back home. _ Genius, that idiot. _

She burst into laughter.

"But these are pretty! I wonder if one can fit into my--" she slotted it into her pinky, and found it fit perfectly, "--Whismy, did you know? My name, a 'citrine', is a yellowish gem, just like this one here."

Whismur looked up, really interested. Seeing what Citrine did with her ring, Whismur pulled its own plushy arm over one ring-- it wouldn't fit--

"This is detachable," Citrine plucked the ring open on one side to slot the piece around Whismur's ear, clicking it back in like an earring. "There, you can wear it like that."

Whismur just shone in glee.

"Oh, you like it?" Citrine was pleased, "I guess that older brother of mine is useful in some ways! Let's give one to Wurmy and Lotty too!"

Seemingly in full agreement, Whismur hopped out of Citrine's arms, scrambling away excitedly, eager to brag about his new ornament to his siblings.

The sunset beyond the cliff that day was breathtaking.

 

But Whismur knew his Master so much prettier than the sky.


	10. a thief and a raid on their den.

_ Itchy fingers, these things. _

 

"Oh, these came out great!"

 

Citrine pulled out a set of freshly developed photographs from the package-- clean, neat images of berries and trees-- and admired each one.

She was never the best photographer-- but seeing them come into physical form was rather touching to witness. They were decent, at least.

She sat down by the meadow with her Pokemon, flipping through each picture carefully.

 

"Let's see... this one's from Route 112, this one's from the forests of Verdanturf--" she flipped through her notebook while she was at it, identifying each berry and where she took the picture from, marking down each spot with a pencil.

"This one-- huh?" 

 

She found a picture of a berry that looked familiar to her-- yet, she had never seen it before. It was black, shaped like a sunflower seed with a white bulb before it-- vaguely it resembled an  _ exclamation  _ mark-- yet, grown too naturally on the surface of the berry was a white  _ question  _ mark.

She didn't remember this berry being in the Berry Encyclopedia Quartz wrote. She didn't remember taking a picture of this berry either.

 

"Was there a mixup with someone else's photograph, I wonder..."

Then it hit her.

"Wait a minute, I know this berry!" she realized-- "from the past-- on Bulbapedia--"

The world flickered.

"...huh?"

 

Suddenly, she stopped. The world went black for half a second,  _ was there a breeze?  _ Something just swooped past us  _ really fast _ just now and-- "Holy crap all the pictures are gone!"

Even her Pokemon had failed to notice a presence, but in less than an instant, the pictures scattered all over the ground before her had just vanished without a trace.

 

Lombre went nuts, screeching like she'd just witnessed a horror movie scenario, sobbing in fear and-- Whismur was scrambling about, yelling at every innocent Pokemon or rock or tree nearby and probably accusing them of something-- meanwhile, Wurmple was grumbling in Lombre's direction like he was reprimanding that scaredy cat.

Citrine herself was no better. 

 

"Did someone steal it? That thing's fast-- or maybe it was the wind-- but then I'd have seen it flying away... oh no, all my effort up till now--"

"What's wrong?" someone spoke up to her, "you missing something, perhaps?"

Her snapped toward the voice-- and found an older man standing there with a bike. 

"Yes!" she responded abruptly, the stress taking her more than the anxiety was, "all the photos I've just developed-- in an instant, they..."

To Citrine's utmost horror, the man guffawed, laughing.

Citrine did a double take-- was this something to laugh about?

"Sorry, sorry--" he seemed to realize that was rather tactless-- "the Zubat's been notorious round these parts, so I suspect that's what got you."

Citrine paused, "...Zubat?"

"Yep, Zubat!" the bike man grinned, "they see shiny stuff, they take 'em! stole tons of my bells and bike chains, those things ain't cheap I tell ya, I heard some lady's got her jewellery snatched right off too. Maybe fresh picture shone in the light so they nabbed them right out of ye'r hands, too!"

Citrine stood there, jaws just dropped-- "this... is funny."

 

"Of course not!" Bike man exclaimed dramatically, "but no one's 'round to take care of the issue, y'see. Just gotta laugh it off or cry it all gone!"

Citrine sulked-- so this man was telling him to give up all those. 

"Wait," she perked up, "what about the Gym Leader, Mr Wattson?"

Surely, there was someone around that could deal with something as pesky as Zubat in the area. It was appalling to think the Gym Leader could stand by and watch all this just happen--

 

"Watt-boy's busy dealing with a rogue Donphan on the South Exit," bike man was firm and understanding, "so we all agreed to not tell 'im about it yet!"

Citrine just sank deep underground at that. 

She now understands how caring citizens may backfire. Oh she was  _ not _ going to stand for this. LIke hell she was gonna let a whole month-ish of work go down the drain for some blind Zubat and overwhelming laid-back senior citizens!

"That's it-- Whismy, Wurmy, Lotty!" she commanded, and her three Pokemon stood at attention. She was serious, a determined glint in her eyes as she scowled-- "pack your things, we're going Zubat hunting!"

"Oh, you'll deal with it for us? That's a great help, oh, want me to tell Watt-boy about that and-- wait, where you goin', girlie?"

 

_ If Wattson's still dealing with Donphan _ , Citrine realized as she stomped through her irritation, going in the direction the weird man pointed out Zubat caves,  _ that means Sapphire isn't here yet _ . 

The main girl-- Sapphire Birch-- in a while she would reach Mauville, and get caught in a Donphan trap by mistake, and eventually also help to sort out some land-hunting issues for the Gym Leader, Wattson.

_ If the story is happening _ , she felt the wind ripple strong through her hair, calling for an incoming storm. _ That means eventually the Groudon and Kyogre issue will get in the way of my journey. _

She clenched her fingers, still angered by the loss of those important pictures.

_ I better hurry and get as much as I can done before then. _

  
  


-

 

_ Bat bat bat bat bat. _

 

After a little shoving and scrounging around, Citrine was directed to a cave at the edge of town. Right by the sea, Citrine realized that this was the Sea Route 118. 

A little past this, through the oceans-- and she'll be in route 123...

"The Berry Master," she breathed, suddenly realizing, "I could get his help in my work."

Her original plan included a final stop there-- she didn't know the man personally, but she knew he would help. Her brother referred him to her, after all-- surely, she'd be welcomed.

Maybe the Berry Researcher's got a Berry data log of his own.  _ Maybe it means my book won't be necessary _ \-- she slapped herself.  _ He would've published it already if he had a more complete book than Quartz did! _

Citrine couldn't lose her motivation now! She was this far in!

"Anyways," she turned to her Pokemon, "let's go get our data back..."

 

ー

 

The cave was desolate-- or at least, it looked to be from outside. Deep and dark and an end not to be found, Citrine could name this nothing but a _ bat cave _ .

"A Zubat den," she cringed, "this is gonna be really freaky, ain't it...?"

Lombre yawned, shrugging. Wurmple, on her shoulder, was already spinning up a lot of string around the girl's face, probably some kinda anti-bat protection neither really understood. Whismur trottled around restlessly.

"What's with you?" Citrine reached down when the little plushie seemed ready to Uproar out of sheer excitement.

Whismur flapped his arms around flamboyantly--

"Oh, right-- you're a cave Pokemon," Citrine remembered absent-mindedly, "got an old score to settle with them or something?"

Whismur nodded almost too eagerly.

"Well, we'll have to keep that for later," Citrine put a finger at her lips, "they have us outnumbered and our types aren't advantageous either, so let's try sneaking in first without fighting, okay?"

A breeze trickled past her sleeve-- Citrine looked over her shoulder. 

From inside the cave, countless glinting eyes beamed an unnatural shine of gold.

She froze.

 

_ The horde of Zubat have noticed suspicious individuals at their entrance! _

_ The horde of Zubat used Supersonic! _

 

"They found us! RUN!!" Citrine shrieked.

 

ー

 

"This is bad..." Citrine sighed, leaning against the rocks, sitting down.

Her breath was ragged from the sudden run, but that wasn't the issue. There had been a lot more of those than she'd first expected.

"Looks like we'll need an actual plan this time before we go for it again," Citrine mumbled to herself, "what is it?"

Lombre had been desperately tugging on her sleeve. Whismur struggled frantically toward her left, and Wurmple was stringing out a wrapping for her upper arm.

Citrine lifted her shoulder, and promptly freaked out, "I'm bleeding!"

 

"Wait," she pushed down Whismur's face when it desperately smothering her in worry, "I didn't see a Wing Attack..."

Wing Attack was when their wings gleamed and they charged at you. All of the Zubat attacked from a distance-- none could've physically touched Citrine at any point of time.

"Air Cutter?" she remembered, "or Slash... maybe there's a Golbat in there somewhere."

 

An evolved Pokemon in a wild cave... with only the three Pokemon she had on hand, it was unlike she could defeat them fairly.

In the corner of her vision, she caught something yellow gleam in the sunset. But when she turned toward it-- it flickered away before she could tell what it was supposed to be.

She shrugged, dismissing it as a trick of the eye.

The sea blew in with ripples-- perhaps it was calling a storm like the one she'd encountered on the first day-- she sighed.

"Let's go by the book, then."

 

She thanked Wurmple for the gauze, and leaned over to whisper their plan.

"So, since I'm bleeding now, I can't do the sneaking in."

 

ー

 

"Ready, Whismy?" she stepped out boldly in the front of the cave-- then stuffed Jigglypuff ear buds into her ears, "alright, then--"

A moment of complete silence overtook the whole area.

Whismur took a breath.

 

Screeching the loudest and most infamous Whismur-shriek ever, Whismy Uproared with all its might, sending even Citrine shrinking back in surprise. (yes, despite the ear plugs. Whismur must've been excited to hear he could go all out.)

 

The Zubat came out screaming in agony, their sharp ears working against them as they were blinded. A whole fury of Wing Attack came charging out of there, Growl calling in others from deep within.

Blind bats as they were, they either missed or fell straight down from the impact of the Uproar. Some attacks did get through, but Whismy was a little stronger.

Citrine watched from the side, and waited-- she eyed Lombre by the sea as it dived down-- and sent Wurmple to sneak in by the corner. Just then, a Golbat fluttered out, as angered as the rest of its pack.

Citrine staggered, alerted. 

 

Wind picked up unnaturally around the Golbat's wings-- and with a nasty screech, the Golbat sliced with its wing, a sharp Air Cutter bursting through the airline.

Citrine ran forward before the move was unleashed-- but charging through the Zubat was a little tougher. Scooping Whismur right off the ground, she rolled out just in time to narrowly dodge the deadly strike.

Her clothes didn't survive, though-- a large back portion of the vest was shredded by the attack, though she escaped unharmed.

"Whismy, Oran Berry!" she called, though she couldn't hear herself, leading a handful of blue berries into the Pokemon's mouth to munch on.

Whismur breathed heavily, but gobbled them up quickly and turned back to the Zubat.

There were still plenty of them, and only one of them.

Wing Attack was charging up on their end, and Poison Sting was really to dive in.

 

"Alright, Whismy," Citrine smiled, "you practiced this. Rollout!"


	11. try and don't give up.

_ Try until you fall, then get up. _

 

 

"Rollout! Rollout! Wait, ouch! Wait no that didn't hurt at all. Calm down! Uh, Uproar! Wait no--"

Golbat screeched.

Using one Whismur on a horde of Zubat was not a good idea. But it's fine, she had a plan...

 

_ "Whismy and I will distract them," she told the other two, "Wurmy and Lotty, you sneak in and find all of the stolen items, there should be a pond in there that leads out to the shore." _

Just then, Lombre hollered from the other direction, a furious wave of Fury Swipes as she dove in, angry at the attackers.

"Lotty?!" she gasped, a grin crawling up to her face,  _ that means the other two are done! _

Hearing a sharp Golbat screech, she whirled around. Horrified, she saw the Golbat closing in on Wurmple, who stood as brave as she could in front of a white cocoon of string shot-- probably the stolen items she'd retrieved.

"Wurmy!" she called out, running right through the Zubat, her bigger form easily crossing the angry bats-- she probably got a few new wounds, but she'd forgotten.

Just as the Golbat unleashed a razor of Air Cutter, Citrine reached out.

A green orb of light came in between them. It collided with the semi-transparent wave of air-- and exploded in a burst of green leaves.

Citrine dove to cover Wurmple, keeping her head down as the atmosphere ruptured, sending a bounding shockwave of wind that uprooted rocks and made her struggle to hold her ground.

When she lifted her head after the commotion settled, the Zubat were scurrying back into their cave. Golbat had fainted, laying motionlessly on the grass.

Leafeon returned to her ball without so much as a glance. Citrine watched the spot the Pokemon was just a second ago-- and in awe, she stayed still.

Silently, she thanked it.

 

Citrine turned quickly to Wurmple, who was curled up fearfully, looking up at her as she was cradled in her owner's arms.

"Thank goodness, you're alright," she breathed out in relief.

Whismur and Lombre scrambled right over, covered in mud and wounds-- but Citrine noticed she wasn't in any better state.

"Thanks, you two."

Wurmple was still cradled in her arms, shivering.

"And of course, Wurmy too... Wurmy?"

The Pokemon began to glow.

As Wurmple gleamed a glaring white and deformed in the glow, Citrine squeezed her eyes shut from the glaring brightness. 

She opened her eyes, and her pink lump of affection was purple now.

A silky cocoon with multiple protruding spikes. A  **Cascoon** , she knew it immediately.

She smiled, and it smiled right back.

"Congrats, Wurmy!"

 

-

 

_ If you don't give up, it'll work out. _

 

 

Setting Cascoon, who didn't really like to move anymore, on top of Lombre's lily pad, Citrine set out to unwrap the thick layers of string shot. 

She picked out a robot toy and a piece of jewellery, and wondered how many things these Zubat actually managed to steal. Wurmy was incredible if she managed to bind all these up so quickly.

"It's amazing how none of these are wet at all," she mumbled, "even though it took a dip in the sea."

Wurmple's string shot was really getting waterproof now.

"Found the pictures!" she grinned, "now to unwrap the rest and pack them up and..."

 

"What's the meaning of this?!"

A fierce voice boomed behind her.

She flinched, stopped and turned back almost too nervously. A chump, older man stood with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and lips pulled tight.

She looked around her-- and realized this whole area was much more of a huge mess than she'd originally thought.

Little trees were broken, weeds were cleared out, and some soil uprooted. There were deep cuts in solid rock, angry slices through dry ground.

The wound in her shoulder was bleeding, another in the side of the leg a gleaming red.

"Wha- you're terribly hurt!" the man gasped, crouching down quickly-- "wait-- these are the things that were stolen recently! Are you the thief?! Did you cause all this destruction?"

"Huh? No-!!" Citrine responded in a panic, "I mean, yes I did cause all this destruction, actually it was mostly the Zubat, or wait I think Leafeon caused most of the damage--"

"Look, just--" the man seemed conflicted, but came to a conclusion. "let's put that aside. Come with me."

"Wait, I didn't steal anything, I--!"

Her uninjured arm is taken by the man, who she noticed was actually trying to be careful. She staggered, and her bleeding arm drips.

Something inside Whismur snapped, and he just  _ screeched _ .

Arms shoot up to ears, and Lombre spun, dizzy. Whismur stood before his owner protectively, a cute plushie really not looking very threatening at all.

Citrine staggered and fell on her back, wincing. 

She sensed movement on her right, and looked to the side in surprise.

Head hung down, arms rested neatly in between its legs, and sleeping unnoticed between the rocks, was a yellow and brown, fox-faced Pokemon. 

"An... Abra?" she whispered.

And almost immediately, she was surrounded by a purple gleaming light. Whismy and Lotty (and Wurmy, who was on her head), leaped in her direction, and she vanished in a bright purple gleam.

 

She found herself in front of the Pokemon Centre in Mauville, the ripped cocoon of items before her, and her Pokemon piled beside her.

"Wha... what?"


	12. soon you'll grow to love and care.

_And happy accidents._

 

"Finally found you!"

Citrine, getting a new bandage wound around her arm, jumped at the voice.

The strange man from just now barged into the Pokemon Center's medic office. Citrine actually bolted right up and ducked behind the nurse, then lunged forward to catch Whismur when it escaped from its Poke Ball in attempt to suffocate the man with its chub.

Lombre sat down at the side, calmly glaring. Cascoon was the same.

"Mister Wattson, what are you doing here?" the nurse, watching the situation rather apprehensively, spoke up with a sugary tone. "I assume you know what it means when we hang an occupied sign outside the nurse door."

It means there's a girl that might be changing inside.

Wattson flinched back, evidently a little fearful of the ominously seething woman.

"I, uh, am really sorry, Miss, it's just that-- uh, I might have a little business with that young lady behind you?"

"Well, you speak to her later, Mister Wattson," the lady closed her first aid kit, pointing at the table beside the older man, "Citrine here retrieved some a lot of items for the community. I hope you'll do her a favour and return them as she heals."

"Yes, I definitely will but- please, allow me to--" Wattson steps forward and literally just drops to his knees, "I'm really sorry for scaring you! I sort of panicked, promise I wasn't trying to uh, kidnap you or turn you in or anything--"

Citrine pauses.

This was a... drastic change.

"Oh..." she noticed, "you were trying to get me to the hospital?"

"You were  **bleeding** !"

She burst out laughing. Wattson stared back, mildly offended but mostly baffled.

"Even that Abra thought you were being hostile, sir!" she managed out of her hooting fit, tears prickling out of her, "I'm so sorry for my Whismur, he's cranky like that so he must've assumed, knowing the situation--"

And Wattson breathed out in an almost devastated sigh, slumping in relief.

"And to think I'd meet the young lady Roxanne talked about like  _ this _ , of all ways..."

 

-

 

_Always remember the magic words._

 

 

"Abra teleport away when it senses danger," Citrine explained to her Lombre and Cascoon, "I guess this time, it was awake and decided to teleport  _ us  _ instead."

Whismur was sulking in the corner, munching on a Pokeblock. 

 

Wattson looked through her again, and he was honestly much more confused than he was concerned. He didn't think the girl looked this bad when he first saw her.

She was dressed in a sleeveless variation of the usual hospital gown. A thick plaster patched her right cheek, another covered her left eye. Band-aids were all over her skin, one around her nose, and plenty on her fingers. Both her shoulders were tightly secured with bandages, one arm even in a cast hung over her front. 

He couldn't see under her shirt, but he knew from the nurse that her stomach was full of stitches. Her legs were also wrapped well, and she was given orders for complete bed rest.

"Are you really alright?"

He couldn't help but ask.

 

And Citrine chuckled, "of course! This always happens when I come to a hospital for a checkup."

_ This... always happens? _

"You're always this badly injured?" Wattson raised an eyebrow, not liking what he was hearing.

Citrine snickered sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head with her free hand, but she provided no real answer to his question.

"In the worst situation, my Pokemon can protect me," she assured him, reaching a hand out to pat Whismur on the head, then booped Lombre on the nose and rubbed a hand over Cascoon's face, "they're getting stronger, after all."

Wattson's eyes softened at the sight.

Whismur crawled back into the bag and picked out more Pokeblocks, while Lombre who was now an odd shade of blushing red turned toward the window and covered its face. Cascoon just looked honestly pleased.

 

"Roxanne told me to keep an eye out for you when you’d arrive," Wattson supplied, pulling a chair out from under the bed to sit on with a huff, "you really arrived much earlier than I'd expected."

Wattson murmured something about Donphans under his breath. Citrine pretended to not hear it.

"It must've been a tough journey. But rest assured! For the remainder of the duration of your Berry Research in this town, I, Wattson the Gym Leader, will make sure you have  _ berry  _ great support throughout!"

All things paused as Wattson sparkled in pride for that lame pun. 

Citrine eyed him with a sort of disgust, then Lombre tugged at her sleeves, snapping her out of it. She closed her eyes and smiled. "I'll be in your care, Mister Wattson!"

  
  


-

 

**RYDEL'S CYCLES**

_ Ride in gravel and shake up your soul! _

 

 

 

"This is a, uh, Tamato Berry."

Citrine found one on Lombre's lily pad, among the mass of Nanab Berries and Cheri Berries.

Lombre and Whismur were out gathering any berry they could find for their owner, who was currently incapacitated from the waistdown.

 

"You know it?"

Citrine leaped, the sudden oily waft of bike oil plaguing her nose as she all but yelped at the sight of Bike Shop Owner Rydel inching in much too close to her workspace.

She freaked out when the juices squirted out when she pushed the pointy edge of the spiky berry a little too hard.

A drop splashed onto Lombre.

Needless to say, her lovable little Lotty shattered into shrieks and wails.

 

Wattson's home was a little deeper into town, so Citrine took up residence in Rydel's Cycles, which was nearly adjacent to the sea and the mountain woods. It was much more convenient to research here than it was in the Day Care, because her Pokemon could make round trips in and out easily.

The Gym Leader himself dropped by in any possible moment he wasn't busy with the Donphan, asking for her condition and exchanging assurances with Rydel over and over and asking if she wanted anything,  _ anything at all, _ because they'd fly out on command. 

Citrine felt like she'd suddenly gained a duo of irritating sugar daddies. Minus any carnal implications, of course, these two were among the nicest guys she'd met. They're like Wanda's Riley. A bunch of big softies.

 

"Tamato Berries are super duper spicy," Citrine watched Rydel empty a cup of ice on the Lombre's lily pad, "if you get any in your eyes, they'll probably be paralyzed for a while."

"That's... scary," Rydel commented dryly, "but to think you'd know about them! I guess that's to be expected from a Berry Researcher!"

_ No, that's something you'd know if you read the manga- _

"Well, I bet my Whismur would love it," she said, noting how Whismy was jittery, hopping around the edge of the table just revelling in the spicy aroma. She reminded herself to give the little plushie a bite later.

She noted how this was the only singular berry in the pile--  _ among nine Nanab berries, Six Cheri berries, Two Chesto Berries, Three Leppa Berries...  _ there was only  **one** Tamato Berry.

She wondered where her Pokemon found this. So she voiced out her thought to Rydel.

"These don't grow around these parts, maybe further toward Lavaridge," the biker told her, scrutinizing the berry, "they sell these in the supermarket downtown, though. Perhaps, someone dropped it in the forest?"

_ Lucky us, then _ , Citrine didn't say that out loud.

She scribbled down words for the Tamato Berry immediately, jotting down what she could remember, "I should go check out the berries in the market too..."

"I could go!" Rydel brightened up, "I can buy one of everything and--"

"No, it's fine!"

"No, I insist!"

 

Citrine sighed as the man scampered right out the door, and she couldn't suppress the smile that grew onto her face at the sight.

Being stuck on a wheelchair for at least a month (actually much more but that was the minimum apparently) had left her despaired. Because her research would be delayed.

She wasn’t in much of a rush, but with the calamity she knew was going to come, she would really rather finish as much of it as she could before the region-wide evacuation began.

But for now, with a storm warning over the TV that played almost every day, Citrine decided she would have to bide over the next week here in Mauville, strapped indoors.

She was going to finish up this town's worth of research and bumble right over to her next destination after that. Yeah, that'd work.

 

She turned toward her coat, and to the little Stone Badge shining on the innerside of the vest.

Her thoughts swirled to Leafeon's Pokeball, that lay by the edge of the desk, wherein the little (and not at all weak) Pokemon was asleep.

She smiled.


	13. scars run deeper with age.

 

_Nothing can stop her now._

__

“It’s definitive, I’ve received her data from the hospital in Verdanturf,” the nurse knocked the board against the wall, huffing at her Gym Leader in a sort of reprimand, “she... cannot feel pain at all.”

Wattson was confused for a long moment, then everything sank in.

 

“That explains all the injuries,” he breathed in disbelief, hands reaching over to mask his expressions, “it explains  _ so _ much.”

Logically no one would allow themselves to be injured so badly that they had  _ so many _ injuries. It was like she climbed out of the sea, crossed a waterfall of rocks, fought in the mud with angry Poochyena before raiding a Zubat cave. And then, walked across a desert of Cacturne before reluctantly deciding she needed a hospital

The nurse, marring dark eye circles, scowled (not at Wattson. But at herself, her fellow nurses, the head doctor, everyone,) and sharply turned away in shame.

“You won’t like to hear this, Mister Wattson,” the nurse’s expressions were morose as she folded her arms, shameless beginning to repeat the lines she’d spent the night tearfully eyeing, “not counting the innumerable scratches, bruises and lesions from her fight with the Zubat; she has a broken elbow, a dislocated left knee, a torn ligament in her right thigh, clustered veins in her left arm, three broken fingers, and seven broken toes… 

Her liver was bloated and her lungs had been punctured. Several ribs were shattered and even with operation we are unsure if we’ve removed all the shards present. All these are  _ old _ wounds, so healing is much more difficult for us. We have a healer Pokemon with us, but Chansey is still so worried for her she wants to leave the Center and bunk down with the girl.”

At some point, Wattson had stopped breathing. A haunted look came over him and settled, yet the nurse felt the exact same way.

“The medication is barely working on her,” the nurse muttered, “she required no anesthetic. But she was supposed to be out for another few days, yet there she was, barely three hours later, awake and so eager to continue her studies. Can you believe this, Mister Wattson? Cause I sure as hell can’t.”

Wattson felt himself trembling at the bare thought of this horror, and deep inside he realized just  _ why _ Roxanne, of all the people in the world, asked a favour of him. That girl never got attached to people, and sure as hell would eat a Geodude before she asked a favour from the man she proudly declared to have no similarities with.

“That girl’s a fighter, Mister Wattson,” the nurse told him firmly, “please,  _ please _ take care of her.”

 

ー

_ Laughter, the pacifier of all sadness. _

 

“What do you  _ mean _ , I’m not allowed to walk?”

“It means you’re not allowed to walk, young lady!”

Wattson sighed. Entering the house near noon with warm tupperwares and cold drinks, he wasn’t expecting to walk into his usually wimpy pal lecturing a young girl.

“But Chansey took off the bandages on my legs! I’m fine now!”

“Your feet are barely functional, missy! You are not perhaps forgetting the stitches on your belly, are you? You are staying down and letting your Pokemon do the work for you.” 

“But only Lotty has arms! It’s hard for her!”

Lombre squawked at the sight of Wattson (that thing was  _ really  _ timid) and scrambled over to hide behind the Whismur that was less than half its size.

The Whismur bounced excitedly to the smell of food, greeting the Gym Leader readily.

“Whismy’s so close to evolving! I wanna see that happen!”

“Don’t be impatient, there’s a storm coming and it’ll most likely hit us hardest tonight. You can do your mad training  **on a wheelchair, with our supervision** ,  _ after _ it passes.”

Wattson could swear the girl erupted into the uglies baby tantrum he’d ever seen. A strangled, kicked puppy noise ripped from her throat as she batted uselessly at the blankets, muttering something about stingy bike shop owners and overpriced bikes. 

_ (No, I do not sell my bikes at a million coins, where did you get that idea??) _

And Citrine pouted like the child Wattson had honestly forgotten she was. 

 

With one determined sigh, Wattson tucked his hands on his hips and mightily declares his presence, “LUNCH TIME!!!”

Synchronously, the bickering duo swirl around and shriek in his face. "AAAHHH!!!!”

“Oh my gOD Mister Wattson!” Rydel gasped out, legs failing him as he collapses and gawks at the man like he was a ghost, “how long have you been in here??”

“I’ve been standing here the whole time,” he snorted. Raising the lunch box and cold flasks, he spurted into a grin, “I brought some  _ protein _ for dear  _ Citrine!” _

The mood of the room abruptly dropped cold. Cascoon actually sneezed. Whismur tripped over and began uproaring in protest. Lombre ran around the plush toy Pokemon, waving its arms over it in a panic as if that would help.

Citrine burst into giggles.

“That was incredible, Mister Wattson,” Rydel offered dryly.

“Really? Thanks!”

 

Pushing out of the roller chair she reclined in, Citrine sighed fondly, curling a loose golden lock between her fingers.

“If there’s going to be a storm, I wonder if the Zubat would be fine…” she wondered, looking out the window, in the general direction of the Zubat cave.

Mean Pokemon or not, bad storms were bad.

 

“So, I’m thinking,” Wattson seemed to notice her plight, “for the night, I”m suggesting we seal off the Zubat cave so the Zubat can have a decent, not waterlogged shelter.”

Citrine perked up at that.

“Rydel with help me,” Wattson jabbed a thumb in the man’s direction (wait, I’m helping? Mister Wattson?!) and he slung a rough shoulder over the man, “don’t worry, thunderstorms are like my backyard! I’ll make sure the Zubat are  _ barred _ from most of the danger.”

“Yeah, and I’m going to end up  _ charred _ ,” Rydel added pessimistically.

Citrine burst out laughing.

 

“Rydel, you and I should form a comedy duo.”

“WIth all due respect sir, hell no.”

 

-

 

 

_Trauma seeps into the heart._

 

 

Scooping a handful of Dry Poffins into Cascoon’s mouth, Citrine hummed. Cascoon munched with a sort of contentment. The Pokemon sat on the edge of Citrine’s desk, a silver plastic ring tucked into one of its barbs.

“Hey, Wurmy,” Citrine whispered, rubbing its head carefully, “it’s kinda convenient that you can’t move much in this form, since you can keep me company while I heal.”

Cascoon seemed to purr back in its natural language, soft and hardly heard. 

> **~~_“Y’know, I’m actually scared of Dustox now.”_ ~~ **
> 
>  

Citrine flinched, her hand tensing on Cascoon’s, her gaze shooting away to still on her papers. She knows Cascoon is surmising her sudden change in mood-- but she can’t bring herself to put her hand back on top of the Pokemon.

 

She can’t feel pain.

But somehow, her spirit is telling her that her back, a cold stripe that shattered the large of her back-- something inside her screamed about the horrifying pain, the burning lacerations, and the seeping poison.

She can’t feel pain.

But the one inside her, who fully remembers what pain is, recalls how agonizing it is.

The pain isn’t real, so it just burned a stronger, more vivid imagination into her heart, plaguing her dreams with agony that she hasn’t felt in so long it  _ hurts _ .

 

She looked at her hands and someone she remembered the blood. The swimming vision. The numbness and the freezing cold. Her brother’s angry face. The poisonous stench of medicine that made her want to throw up.

Then she remembered the knives and the slit wrists and the basins of red water and the final step off the edge of the building. She remembered the emptiness in the heart and-- and this time, the pain is real and she felt it hit the air out of her chest so strongly she could double over and just  _ sob _ .

But she didn’t.

 

She let out a noise of distress, and so sorely hoped that Rydel couldn’t hear her. She clawed at her hair, not caring if she could accidentally scratch through her scalp. 

She buried her head into the edge of the desk, and squeezed her eys shut, taking in short, rapid breaths, clutching her chest and only thinking of  _ No, No, No _ .

 

Then, a song spills from the corner of the room.

It reaches her ears-- a grassy, lyricless tune, dancing in the air and filling the room with the soothing aroma of petrichor--

Citrine chokes on a breath, and suddenly she regains the ability to  _ breathe. _

 

She barely remembers that Dustox from so long ago. Why is it still haunting her now? It’s almost pathetic. Especially since Wurmy’s going to evolve soon.

She turned to Wurmy, who, in its mute and motionless state, looked so wide eyed it was ready to roll off the table to call for help.

It looked distressed, bouncing around its spot and frantically trying to inch closer to the girl-- Citrine hesitated for a moment before grasping the Pokemon with both arms, desperately cradling it closer and assuring it.

“Sorry, Wurmy,” she whispered, almost too weakly, “I’ll get over this. I can.”

_ I swear. I have to. _


	14. won't think till it's gone.

_ Too late for regrets now. _

 

 

**“Wurmy!” she yelled, “Wurmy, where are you?!”**

**She ran through the woods. Her knees were shaking. One of her ankles were a little loose. Her eyes burned with tears and her throat was raw from her screaming.**

**She wasn’t supposed to be walking yet, was she?**

**She didn't know anymore.**

**After all, it didn't hurt. It didn't matter if her knees were shattered through or her organs were rotten to the core, she'd never notice a thing.**

**That was how it always was for her.**

 

-

 

It was almost six.

Citrine looked out the window in concern-- the sky had darkened considerably, yet her Pokemon were nowhere to be seen. 

Cascoon was out too-- Rydel had found a rather spiky berry, and suggested to wrap it in string before plucking it from its tree. So Whismur and Cascoon had set out for the afternoon, having planned on getting a few more back before they holed in for the night.

But the rain began to pelt.

Wattson and Rydel were out to barricade the Zubat Den. Lombre went with them, and they would be back any moment now. The house was empty, Citrine was alone.

And she was worried.

 

It was when thunder began to rumble, and the lights in the house shuddered out, that her concern reached its peak.

Another moment later, the lights flickered back on-- this wasn’t the town of Electricity for nothing, she guessed-- but at the same time, the door opened, and in walked a Pokemon she didn’t think she knew at first.

It was a Loudred.

Tracking in mud and soaked to the bone in rain, it scowled at the sight of Citrine. At first, Citrine froze up, fearful-- then the little silver glint of an earring on its ear caught her attention.

“Whismy?” she realized, and her face morphed hopeful, “you evolved! That’s amazing!” 

She dropped from her wheelchair to her knees, stretching her arms out for a congratulatory hug.

Her face fell when she realized Loudred wasn’t even looking at her, much less diving into her embrace. Frowning, she put her hands down--

“Wait, where’s… where’s Wurmy?”

The purple ogre Pokemon flinched at the mention of the other two Pokemon, so Citrine immediately knew something was wrong.

Citrine picked herself up to her feet, surprised when her first step stumbled.

But she stood up again, more stable this time. Scooping up her bag and a handful of berries, she turned to Loudred, “let’s go.”

And Loudred broke into a run, Citrine hot on his heels.

 

- 

They guided through the forest frantically, Citrine hopping over tree roots and tugging herself up onto branches where humans weren’t made to traverse.

The rain came down harder, each drop hitting like ice, cold and crude. The thunder roared in the background, and Citrine only cursed the sunlight she was losing each second.

Her hair, pulled up into a hasty ponytail, was ragged and tucked by leaves the moment she came to a cave.

It wasn’t lit, but Citrine had brought a flashlight.

Amongst a pile of berries and damp leaves, a silver glint reflected off the beam of the flashlight. Crouching down, Citrine realized it was a ring. Most probably, Wurmy’s.

“Where…”

She lifted her head, and gasped.

Near the edge of the cave, a wing swiped against the cavern walls. Even in the dim lighting, Citrine could make out the moth-like structure as it fluttered hesitantly, keeping itself aflight. The light was brought over closer, and Citrine saw its purple body, golden eyes, and green wings-- 

It was a Dustox.

Against everything she knew and every logical conclusion in her head, she sucked in a too-sharp breath and stepped back in fear.

The movement didn’t go unnoticed by the Pokemon. 

Go on, she told herself, go on, be happy.

“W- Wurmy!” she tried her best to sound happy. She even brought on a wide smile to try and make it look convincing, “woah, you, you evolved, that’s amazing!”

She couldn’t bring herself to step forward. 

She was stuck still, frozen-- paralysed. Her expressions grow stiff on her face, and she attempted to not completely mince off her bottom lip. She swallowed and took a breath to calm herself.

_ That’s Wurmy _ , she reminded herself,  _ that’s your adorable little Wurmy. _

Citrine turns curiously to Loudred, looking even angrier than before. His fist was balled up, trying to hold back. Citrine leaned down to put a hand on the little ogre’s head, hoping to ease it.

Her Loudred despises Dustox, probably more so than Citrine herself.

“Now, now, Whismy,” she soothed it, and she hated how her smile was so strained and so obviously forced onto her features, “that’s Wurmy, remember? She won’t hurt us.”

She won’t hurt us.

She won’t hurt us.

She closed her fists tight, and took a step forward. That’s right, she chanted to herself, She won’t hurt me. She promised she would get over this. She vowed to not reject her when the time came--

The smile on her face is easier this time, “come here, Wurmy! I’ll give you a hug.”

But the second she said that, she shuddered to a stop. Not because she flinched again at the sight of a Dustox, not because her arms were trembling-- but because a trickle of blood, so red and vibrant, flowed down her arm from the cuts her nails had carved into her palms.

Dustox faltered, wings angled down and his features sad, so, so  _ sad-- _

All eyes find the blood, and Loudred went nuts. A ring of Hyper Voice shot through the cavern, so suddenly and so strongly, earthen walls rupturing and loosening-- mud crawled through the rifts and the cave collapsed around them.

Citrine saw Dustox struggle to fly, then her vision was swallowed by the earth and darkness took over.

-

She woke up in the Pokemon Centre, three days later, a ring clutched in her palm. Lombre and Loudred watched over her, frantic.

She brought her hands up to her face, to the bandages around her and the pain she couldn’t feel, couldn’t feel-- but her heart, that hurt. Her heart ache and throbbed and felt like it was ripping itself up and for the first time in this life, she broke down and sobbed.

 

The next moment she ran out the door, across the mud of Mauville’s forests--

And she searched until she couldn’t.


	15. and she stops.

_ Standing still, maybe it’ll change. _

 

 

“Hey, Zubat. I’m glad you guys are okay.”

Wattson fidgeted at the side, shifting from one leg to another as he watched the scene, mildly uncomfortable.

There was a smile on Citrine’s face, but it wasn’t in her eyes. Yet, her lithe figure on that wheelchair sat like she belonged in it, calm and comfortable.

There had been a slight risk of permanent paralysis, but luckily, she got away with a couple of infections and broken bones. Permanent aftereffects were still unclear.

Citrine, her hair bound back in a braid, watched over the few Zubat that fluttered beside her. 

This was her third day in the cave, and the Zubat had grown on the girl. She spoke to them and they would lead her to answers. The Golbat that mastered the cave ensured no other Pokemon caused her harm.

Wattson wasn’t sure why, but Rydel had an inkling.

Pokemon were always emphatic creatures, much more so than humans ever were and could be. 

If Wattson could see how devastated and how broken the girl was-- maybe the Pokemon could feel it in their senses, enough for them to wish to protect her despite their differences.

“Want a berry? Be careful with-- oh, I’m bleeding.”

Wattson jumped. All Zubat froze. It was kind of funny, seeing as they shuddered synchronously, wings not moving, just petrified in mid air like floating statues.

Then they all but  _ screeched _ , fluttering around in a panic. Wattson squawked as all creatures in the cave rose in a mayhem, until Chansey trotted right up with her healing.

There was laughter after that, and Wattson felt the bubbles of joy, though temporary, come back to the girl.

Maybe she could heal.

-

Rydel brought the girl to Pokemon Daycare, where old lady Haruna still worked.

She spent the day singing lullabies to the baby Pokemon, while her own laid still in their Poke Balls in Rydel’s hands, forgotten.

It was saddening.

Lombre was crestfallen, and Loudred hadn’t even tried to look at its owner.

There was a bundle of silk missing between them, and Rydel could only watch, knowing things won’t go back.

It felt just like yesterday. Citrine would be huddled up on her desk, Cascoon beside her trying to grasp her attention by spindling silk over the back of her pencil. 

Lombre would scramble in and out with an armful (and lilypad-full) of berries. Occasionally she’d help the shop, or untangle wire cords.

Whismur would be scampering around balancing one berry at a time, and although he’d fall over more times than berries he could take, he kept trying.

Then Citrine would laugh and rub them on their heads, promising treats after a job well done.

_ Now it’s all gone. _

“It’s been a week,” he would tell the Lombre when it croaked, wanting to come out, “Wurmy’s… probably too far away now.”

But the Lombre would pop right out anyways, stubbornly insisting on heading into the forest to search.

Lombre never gave up.

But had Citrine given up?

-

Rydel mostly relied on Aunt Haruna for Citrine’s matters. After all, Citrine was a young, teenage  _ girl _ and Rydel isn’t really the best person to consult or empathize with.

She had nightmares, some nights more than most. After the incident, it fluctuated.

And the dreams, though she never spoke of them, Rydel could hear them and piece them together.

They ranged from pleads for her life, begging to  _ not leave her alone _ , to screaming. 

It ended the same way-- she would bolt upright, wrenched from one world to the other, and she would spend disorienting moments singing a lullaby to herself, her own voice shattered and full of tears.

Chansey, borrowed from the Pokemon Center, would watch over her on a daily basis, but some things couldn’t be solved with companionship.

Rydel followed Lombre out one night, and watched from afar how the Pokemon scrambled around, gesticulating wildly about her search for something with wings.

They weren’t quite sure what to do. Wattson contemplated contacting Roxanne, to reach the girl’s guardians-- but Aunt Haruna suggested otherwise.

They would wait, he decided.

And finally, something changed.

-

Citrine never really got over it, even years past it. She clutched the little plastic ring-- Wurmy’s, and it had fallen off when the Cascoon evolved-- she so dearly wished she could have put it back on.

Her legs were dangerously numb, and though she will soon be referred to a better physiotherapy hospital in Lavaridge for ailing, there was no guarantee of a full recovery.

She stayed on her wheelchair, like a good girl, and left the search to Rydel and Lombre.

She didn’t want to give up on the search. But maybe, just maybe, something inside her had already given up.

She began to remember things at night. Things like the cuts on her wrist that have faded away with her body, the deepening thoughts that plagued every waking moment, a very, very familiar feeling of wanting it all to  _ end _ .

It scared her, and it was stupid.

She can’t even feel pain anymore. There would be no point or reason to do anything to herself. She wouldn’t, couldn’t, feel it.

She would be trapped in a labyrinth, her life’s mistakes on every wall. She would run, but the only thing that lay at its end was emptiness, and the sudden realization that she would never, ever be free.

Citrine was engulfed by regret, and even Leafeon’s gentle lullabies were not enough.

“Do you think there’s something I can still do?” 

Citrine asked her Loudred, that fake smile once again on her face.

“Do you think there’s still a point?”

Loudred sat with his back to her, seemingly ignoring the girl as she spoke. Citrine thought she deserved it-- maybe both of her other Pokemon hated her now.

After all, she had lost Wurmy and now she wasn’t doing anything to get Wurmy back.

How pathetic.

-

One day, Wattson brought her out.

“This is Coil-boy!” he jabbed a thumb in the direction this a small, spiral-glasses-wearing (wait, are his spectacle frames actually gears? This guy is weird) man in a robot-arm-and-leg contraption. What even on earth is that anyways.

Citrine stared up at them curiously-- “uhm, nice to meet you?” she offered-- this was the guy that… operated New Mauville or something? 

Wasn’t he the guy that gave, uh, Emerald, his weird platform shoes and soil-gun thing?

_ Wait, were they the same person? _

“Nice to meet you, little lady! You can call me the Robot King!” he said, proudly and funnily, as if he were trying to act clumsy, like a clown.

Citrine gave him a smile anyways, thought just a small, subtle one enough to be polite.

“Please call me Citrine,” she told him. She didn’t have her Pokemon with her-- Lombre was out searching as she always did, and this time Loudred had gone elsewhere, which was something he had been doing recently.

She found Leafeon’s Poke Ball in the pouch at the arm of her wheelchair, but an unresponsive click at the button meant she wasn’t in the mood to come out.

Citrine sighed, but raised the ball anyways to show Coil the grumpy little thing.

“This is Leafeon,” she said, “I can’t control her yet because I’m not strong enough, but she protects me when it counts.”

Coil looked closer, and grinned, “nice to meet you, Leafeon!”

Leafeon huffed, turning away. Wattson laughed.

“Now that you’re introduced, I have a surp _ rise _ for you, Citrine-dear! You’ll be mesme _ rized _ , hah, get it?”

The silence that answered him was completely expected, so Coil swooped in for a splendid save.

“A day ago, we finally found the hidden land of Mauville!” he announced brightly, and Wattson looked horrified at the spoiler, “it’s called New Mauville, and it’s an underground amusement park!”

Citrine perked up, interested.

Had Sapphire come and gone while she was recuperating? Oh no, that meant she was falling behind on the journey!

(But did it really matter?)

“It’s not all that ready for public opening yet, because of all the wild Pokemon that we’re going to build specified living locations for, but it’s a pretty interesting place at the moment and we thought you’d enjoy a little pre-construction sightseeing.”

Citrine was baffled.

It was evident that they were trying to cheer her up, and honestly, she didn’t dislike their effort. She just wasn’t sure if she was… ready to get over it.

(It’d be like she was giving up on Wurmy, abandoning Wurmy again-- she couldn’t let that happen.)

(But if Lombre found Wurmy now… would Citrine be able to face him without fear? She didn’t know. She couldn’t confidently say yes.)

So instead, she accepted their offer of a tour for New Mauville.


	16. an attempt to overcome.

_ Find a new purpose. _

 

It was filled with Pokemon, as expected.

Various structures were struck down, possibly in a previous fight (it would have to be a strong Pokemon, to have toppled such huge buildings) but otherwise the facilities were fully functional.

Citrine was carried down by Wattson, her wheelchair hauled down in Coil’s robot arms, because her wheelchair had no way to get down the first flight of stairs. 

“You could set up a slope or a slide for the ones in wheelchairs!” Citrine suggested, “or a lift for the elderly… shaped like a merry-go-round ferry!”

 

Wattson carefully set her back down on the wheelchair as Coil right about exploded.

“That’s a great idea! We could encourage disabled children-- ah, we could make a resting area for parents and elderly right over there! We’ll also need restaurants and facilities-- ooh, so much to do...”

Citrine chuckled at the sight. Already, he was tearing through pages of notebook papers filed with sketches and plans. Wattson looked on, intrigued.

 

“It was a good idea to bring dear Citrine down here!” Wattson grinned, wide and toothy, “we may as well take this time to iron out the creases in preparation for our grand opening!”

Citrine looked at them and it’s sort of funny. Two grown men getting excited over a new project. She hoped she could stay and watch it come to fruition. 

(Maybe she will.)

 

There’s a loud crash, and all heads turned to the source. A small power plant had toppled in the distance-- and even from here, the burn of static electricity and the whirring of razor gears could be heard.

Magnemite scurried out from the spot, flying dangerously and crashing into each other. Sparks spilled from their bodies as they frantically vacated the crash zone.

“Mister Wattson,” Citrine called, only to realize they were moving too.

Coil had run on ahead, while Wattson put his hands on Citrine’s wheelchair and they rushed to the scene.

Citrine clutched the Poke Ball in her hand tight.

 

-

 

It was chaos.

The power plant was set up in an area, and one had toppled, shattering another in its fall. It caused an electrical discharge that would soon spark into an explosion-- 

“There are Pokemon trapped underneath!”

Over the scurry of Electrike and hovering Magnemite, Citrine was wheeled over but left aside as Wattson ran over to help. Citrine, after all, shouldn’t get too near. What if it blew up and she couldn’t dodge?

She clicked on the button of the Poke Ball, but to her own muted horror, Leafeon was unresponsive.

Leafeon always knew when to be stubborn. This wasn’t a situation where Leafeon simply defied her because she wasn’t necessary-- Leafeon, right now, was rejecting Citrine as a trainer and an owner.

And this, if possible, hurt more than the fact she lost Wurmy.

She pressed it once more. Heard the click of dysfunction. Pressed it again, there’s no response, it doesn’t open. Leafeon doesn’t turn to look at her at all.

“Please, Leafeon, I need you.”

Citrine could’ve cried right there, but it wasn’t the situation.

“Oh, c’mon!”

Wattson and Coil heave, count once, twice-- and they heft up the fallen power plant long enough for the Electrike trapped by the foot to drag itself out.

But there was a Magnemite down there, a screw loose and a magnet off its socket. It couldn’t haul itself an inch off the ground no matter how it tried.

It seemed the other Pokemon noticed too. But one helped the other Electrike, others were reluctant to approach, the electrical radiation poison to their overcharged senses.

She put the Poke Ball down. How was she expected to just sit by and not help? 

So she dove in, standing up on legs that fell after three steps for reasons she couldn’t feel. But it was close enough for her to throw herself into the fray, scoop the little Magnemite into her hands-- and pull out with a fall flat on her back before Wattson’s grip was lost, the entire structure toppling back down.

They had little time to be in relief. 

Coil immediately picked Citrine off the ground and they  _ bolted _ , a spark rising behind them and an explosion throwing everyone off the ground with a sharp screech.

-

“You need to stop being reckless! This is exactly why Rydel is so paranoid of everything about you!”

It was rare that Wattson yelled at her. It kind of reminded her of Roxanne, just less… fiery. Just fear.

“What if you were a second late? You would’ve gotten crushed!”

“You should  _ never _ touch an injured electric-type Pokemon with your bare hands! You do not know because you cannot feel pain, but the electrical current that travelled through your body could have stopped your heart! We are bringing you to the doctor pronto!”

Citrine sat through the lectures with a straight face, trying her best to take in the new information as she rested the Magnemite in her lap.

“Oh, so that’s what this tingly thing is,” she rubbed her fingers together, feeling as if her fingers were numb and hard. It was kinda like frostbite, without the cold.

“Tingly?? You are currently surcharged with shockwaves and that is all you feel???” Coil freaked out. “That’s it, Watt-boy, call the Chansey on standby!”

Citrine tuned them out and turned to the Magnemite in her lap, who wasn’t moving. A few concerned others hovered around her, looking on worriedly.

She tried to find out what was wrong.

“Why isn’t it floating?” she mumbled to herself. What did she remember from her past life-- they were always floating because of anti-gravity energy. Magnet Pull. Right. Why isn’t that working?

The magnet on its side is off, like a dislocated joint.

She picked it up-- and found the problem. Noting the empty socket on its left, and the fissures that lined its metal shell.

“It’s missing a screw!” she realized, “and it’s cracked where the wound is. This is bad. Mister Wattson!”

Thankfully it wasn’t the top screw that came off. That wouldn’t be pretty.

“What?!” Wattson’s attention whirled back, “curses, it must be under all the rubble now! Coil, is the fire extinguished?”

Coil, who had gone back to the explosion site with a fire extinguisher, raised a robot thumbs up.

“You stay here while we look for it, aye?” Wattson told her, sternly this time.

Citrine nodded obediently.

She rubbed a soothing hand on the Magnemite’s shell, the Pokemon humming weakly in response.

Now she was worried.

“I’m sorry I can’t do much for you,” she whispered to it, “I don’t hold any Potions on me… would you like a Berry?”

It wasn’t strong enough to eat a Berry. 

She offered it to the Magnemite floating around instead, and gave a couple to the Electrike around her. At least they were healing well, resting around her feet.

She hated this-- being useless, being helped, because she can’t do a thing on her own.

It’d be like last time, she’d be a waste of space.

This was a world where you had to be independent at a young age. This was a world where children went on our solitary journeys through worlds because they were strong. Why couldn’t Citrine live up to those standards?

It was so frustrating.

So pathetic, even Leafeon could see it.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to the Pokemon, because it was in so much pain and there was nothing she could do except hold onto it and pretend she understood what agony it was going through.

It was so stupid. Why was she so weak? Why was she so cowardly? Why could she never do anything right?

That’s exactly why Wurmy left her. Why Lottie still searched for her. And why Whismy wasn’t talking to her.

She couldn’t become a trainer that stood by their side. Instead, she was a trainer that hid behind them.

“I want to become stronger,” she spoke, as if anyone would listen. The tears spilled from her, watery dollops waking the little Magnemite under her, who stared up curiously.

She rubbed away her tears in her wrists but they came right back and she whined.

She thought of Wurmy, the crestfallen expression on her Dustox the moment it was clear how much Citrine feared it. How could Citrine have done that?

She remembered Lottie’s exhausted pampering, each she laughed off. She understood Whismy’s rejection of her actions, because Citrine was unjustified.

She couldn’t bear to look at Leafeon, she just wasn’t worthy of commanding such a strong Pokemon.

She sniffled, “I want to be strong enough to stand fully on my own, without depending on anyone. I want to become a trainer that won’t let any Pokemon down anymore!”


	17. a talk for us to stay together.

_United We Stand, Divided We Fall._

 

 

"Oh, Citrine! You switched to an active wheelchair?"

 

When Citrine was finally deemed able enough to be released from supervision, she worked on her rehabilitation harder than anyone else.

Now she visited the Pokemon Centre, and the Nurse Joy are more than familiar with her now.

 

Citrine grinned with a happy hum of approval, "once I get used to this, I can continue with my journey!"

It was about time for her to get back on the hike, anyways. She just needed to settle the loose ends in this town.

 

"How's Magnemite?"

"It'll be up completely in a few days, Citrine," she led the girl into the back room, "it's been waiting for you all day."

Citrine wheeled her own way in, to the nursing wards of Pokemon who were recuperating from dire injuries.

On one of the beds, a Magnemite turned its magnets when it spotted the girl. In its excitement, it tried to float, only to tilt from uneven weight and land on Citrine's lap when the girl rushed forward to receive it.

"Looks like the screws are still loose," Citrine observed, taking in the cracks that couldn't be healed but were bound together with bandaged to keep them together.

"It's unfortunate," Nurse Joy agreed, "but it seems that the screw no longer fits into the socket. We're looking into a suitable spare part to fill in the hole, but so far there's been no luck."

And Citrine hummed at that. The screw on the top of its head was shaky and jutted out a little more than usual... the little gap between the body and the screw head--

 

"Citrine!" Wattson barged in, surprising all of them and the injured Pokemon on the beds, (Nurse Joy sent him a warning glare and he flinched), before he marched up in a panic.

"What's wrong, Mister Wattson?" Citrine cradled the little Magnemite in his hands, depositing it back into the bedding before turning to the Gym Leader.

"It's your Lombre!" Wattson couldn't really understand  _indoor voices_  right now.

Citrine froze. Then, it registered, "what?!"

 

-

 

Lombre was hanging off a branch at the edge of a very tall cliff, and it was steadily crawling further.

"What an absolute cliche," Citrine muttered under her breath as a crowd formed, "what is she trying to reach?"

 

There's a faint shine in the distance.

"It's a ring," someone spoke up beside her-- "a small, white ring... there's a diamond on it."

Citrine looked to the side, to the brown-haired girl wearing red trainer clothes-- and it took everything in her to not flinch in surprise.

"Sapphire?!" she squeaked before she could stop herself.

The girl with a Combusken looked at Citrine, confused. "You know my name?" she pointed at herself, not too sure if she's seen this girl before and never remembered.

Citrine covered her mouth, panicked.

 

(Wait, this isn't the time for that!)

 

"You said a ring, right?" Citrine reached into her collar, and retrieved Dustoc's ring, which she had threaded into a necklace, "did it look like this?"

Sapphire seemed to understand that explanations could come later too. She nodded.

Citrine's fist tightened.

 

Lombre and Loudred had still been hunting around for Dustox, because they were still trying to find her. She had left them be, because they all needed their time to mourn. Now this happens?

Citrine reached for the crutch at the back of her wheelchair, and hefted herself up.

"Please make way!" she called out frantically, pushing her way through to the front, "that's my Lombre!"

 

She seeded through the crowd with little difficulty, then dropped her crutch in favour of getting on the branch Lombre was on.

At the very far edge, hanging on a branch as thin as a thread, was a silver gleam. A ring.

And Lombre was crawling toward it, trying to retrieve it.

 

"Lotty!"

Lombre jumped, suddenly realizing Citrine was right over there. She got up, then slipped off the branch, scaring the living daylights out of half the crowd. Lombre held onto the wood by her claws, looking at Citrine with an expression that spoke much of how she shouldn't be there.

"Lotty, it's dangerous there. Come back over here now!" she raised her voice over the wind, trying to sound strict.

 

Seriously, Lotty was such a timid one. Why would she do something so stupid and reckless?

 

Lombre shook its head rapidly, making whines desperately as she pointed at the ring, trying to prove a point.

"Don't care about the ring, Lotty, it's fine!" Citrine yelled back, "I'll give you a new one, okay?"

Lombre shook her head again.

 

This time, she didn't wait for a response. Lombre continued to crawl over the branch, and her claws were within an inch of the ring now.

A loud creak sounded, and the branch began to give way.

 

 

"Doesn't anyone have a flyer Pokemon?!" someone in the crowd yelled.

Too late.

 

With a shuddering crunch, the branch tore, pure white splinters bursting from the fissures-- and it began to give way from the trunk.

Lombre's arms gave in, and it was sent flying.

Citrine didn't think twice.

 

She ran forward, past the broken section, then leaped. Lombre's attention headed for the ring, two palms closing over the accessory. Citrine's arms wrapped around Lombre's form-- then they began to fall.

 

 

All at once, many things happened.

Wattson sent out an array of Magnemite, who drew their electromagnetic waves into a shield underneath the two.

A colony of Zubat rushed out from nowhere, holding up Citrine and Lombre by her clothes. Their wings flapped furiously as they lifted her, then set her down carefully on Magnemite's floating platform.

A sound wave burst from below-- was it an Uproar? No, it was stronger. Hyper Voice?

The sheer impact of the wave sent the Pokemon scrambling to keep upright, hiding behind Magnemite's protect field. But the debris was blown away in one fell swoop, soaring high into the sky before any wooden chip even dared fall on the girl.

 

 

Citrine watched it all happen, laying flat on the shield with Lombre in her arms. It had happened so immediately, she couldn't believe it.

 

It was a coordinated formation from three different Pokemon, with no prior planning and indication. Pure instinct and desire fueled those moves, and they worked out so miraculously, Citrine was completely unharmed.

 

(So this was what the Pokemon world was really like.)

(Humans and Pokemon lived together in harmony, helping each other and working with each other, even without words.)

 

Looking down, she saw Loudred. Her Whismy, staring up at her for any indication of her wellbeing.

The crowd above her cheered when the Magnemite drew the force field back up to the ground. The Zubat flapped around for a few more minutes, swirled around to make sure she was alright, before all but one left.

Lombre opened her hands, and there the ring was, pristine and not lost in the scuffle.

 

 

Citrine couldn't help but breathe out in awe. Her hair disheveled and her heart beating hard from the stress, the excitement-- her cheeks flushed with the thrill.

 

"That was amazing."

 

* * *

 

_And their step forward._

 

“Oh, Sapphire! You’re still around?”

 

Wattson was as surprised to see the girl as Citrine had been. Sapphire laughed sheepishly at that.

They were now at the Pokemon Centre, where Lombre was getting checked up and Citrine sat aside with a shock blanket over her, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate.

Sapphire was flabbergasted, being the first time she’d come into a building like this one (how much of a jungle girl could you be to not know what a Centre was?) but she got used to the ‘strange refrigerators’ quickly.

 

“I found this one in the forest,” Sapphire gestured at Loudred, “it was lookin’ for sumthin’, so I stayed a bit to help.”

Citrine turned to Loudred, who looked away defiantly-- and her face fell.

(Maybe Whismy was looking for Wurmy.)

Lombre found its place on her shoulders and stayed, content with the affection-- but Loudred would take a while longer, it seemed.

(Maybe Whismy still didn’t forgive her.)

 

“Any-ways!” Sapphire spoke over the tension, then she began speaking in a sharp scolding tone, “you just leaped out there, what are you an idiot? It was super duper dangerous and you should never  _ever_  do it ‘gain!”

“Sapphire, I recall you did something very similar a day ago…”

“I’m different!” she huffed, then crouched down to inspect Citrine’s arms, “look at these, you got scratches all over even though your skin’s so pretty!”

 

Citrine’s honestly a little taken aback. Sapphire, a jungle girl with scratches and wounds all over, is lecturing Citrine about basic feminine skin care.

Wattson was equally appalled, but he had a degree of understanding there. Sapphire aside, Citrine really needed to learn self-preservation. Sapphire was accustomed to roughhousing-- Citrine wasn’t. The difference was necessary.

 

“Ah, I’m… sorry,” Citrine managed to say, “thanks so much, Mister Wattson, Zubat, and... and Whismy, too.”

There was still a Zubat here, who hovered around simply to get an assurance that Citrine was okay. Wattson’s Magnemite set themselves beside Citrine like a surrounding of guardians, which was kind of cute.

 

Loudred, though,  _yelled_  at her.

“Yeah, you tell her too, Loudred!” Sapphire cheered, “reckless and brave are two different things!”

Huh?

 

It seemed Lombre also got the drift, because soon Citrine was crowded in the unintelligible screaming of two Pokemon in front and behind her.

She found Wattson apologizing to the Poke Centre staff on the other end, but the man didn’t make any move to stop the ruckus. Neither did the nurse.

 

“Ah, I get it, I’m sorry, no Whismy, I mean-- Lotty, I’m sorry too, wait, I can’t understand any of you, I don’t speak Pokemon--”

Soon, Citrine just gave up, pretending to understand what ‘lombre, lombre’ and ‘loudred, loudred’ meant.

Maybe she deserved this. She was going to scold Lombre for prioritizing the ring over its own safety, but it looked like history now.

Maybe she deserved this for Wurmy, then.

She needed a good scolding of what she did and didn’t do, and what they were going to do from now on.

 

(They were going to continue, and move on from the Dustox, leaving it behind in this town as a free Pokemon.)

(They were going to set Dustox free, giving up on her.)

(Without being able to apologize.)

 

Just thinking about it made a pain bloom in her chest.

 

 

“Lotty, Whismy,” she addressed the Pokemon slowly, a crestfallen expression on her face-- “would you still follow me as your trainer?”

She really didn’t feel like she deserved anything from them.

“What are you talking about?” Sapphire was ready to snap, “of course you do! They love you, anyone can tell!”

Wattson stopped her, shaking his head slightly.

This was an issue they had to settle on their own, after all-- interference would not solve anything.

 

The two Pokemon stopped their lecture abruptly, then looked at each other as if contemplating the question.

“I mean, I’m reckless, I don’t know how to take care of myself, I depend on you for everything-- even Leafeon doesn’t listen to me,” she told them, “I even lost Wurmy.”

 

She’s a burden that depended on Pokemon to survive.

Is that a good thing in the Pokemon world? It couldn’t be. In the other world, this would be the equivalent of a parasite in a group of friends, one that leeches off benefit one-sidedly.

Can’t she do anything on her own?

Even her dream was based on her brother’s.

 

“That’s right!” Sapphire clapped her hands together, “hey, Loudred, let’s take  _that_  out! You got it for your trainer, right?”

“Huh?” Citrine looked up, confused.

Loudred huffed proudly, then reached behind a bush to peel out a whirl of flowers, tied together like a flower crown of vines, lilies, and nuts.

Citrine was surprised. Wattson watched in awe. Loudred looked so proud of its work, showing it off like it was precious jewellery.

 

“I haven’t made a flower crown in ages, but thank god I still remember how to!” Sapphire laughed sheepishly.

Loudred set the flower crown on Citrine’s head, and set his hands on his hips, waiting for praise.

Citrine blushed, feeling tearful.

Was this acceptance? Was this forgiveness? Was this a sign to move on, forget and progress?

 

“Thanks,” she whispered, “it’s beautiful, Whismy.”

_It’s the most beautiful thing in the world._

In the sunlight, three things glinted a shining silver against the world. An earring on Loudred’s ear, a pin on Lombre’s lily pad, and a ring on Citrine’s little finger.

“Lotty, Whismy,” she told them, meeting them in the eyes, “we’re not going to stop here, right?”

Lombre and Loudred cheered.

 


	18. ahead is the journey you cannot stop going on.

 

_ It's okay to fall, but remember to get back up. _

 

“I’m really sorry to delay your journey, Sapphire,” Citrine told the girl as they saw her off.

 

Lairon and Combusken sat on a mat at the side, munching on a pile of Poffins. Lairon and Whismy challenged each other over the spicy ones in an eating contest, whilst Lotty and Combusken shared theirs in relative peace.

Citrine, sitting on her wheelchair, watched the scene fondly. Sapphire stepped onto Donphan as they prepared to set off again.

 

“It’s no problem for me! You really take good care of yourself, okay?” Sapphire pumped a fist, “thanks for those, though! They’ve never had anything other than Berries in a while.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Citrine smiled. “Have a safe journey herein, Sapphire!”

 

Their meeting was brief, and they didn’t really hit it off, but it was a pleasant meeting nonetheless. It was a simple passer-by’s meeting, and after a short favour and return, they parted ways.

Short and sweet.

 

“Now then, it’s about time we get going too,” Citrine turned to her Pokemon.

Lombre and Loudred perked up, not too sure what lay in store herein. They cleaned up the Poffins, wrapping them up neatly in a pack before tucking it into the pouch of Citrine’s wheelchair.

 

-

 

Rydel cried. Sobbed like a baby.

“Are you  _ really _ leaving?” he whined, “are you really okay? Must you leave so soon?”

Citrine smiled awkwardly.

 

He had come to see the girl as a daughter to be cared for and pampered. Citrine wasn’t exactly uncomfortable having a sugar daddy around, but independence was something she had to garner for herself soon.

 

“I’ve troubled you enough,” she told them, resolved, “I want to go back out there and become stronger on my own. It’s something I can’t do while I’m still here.”

Because she didn’t set out on this journey simply to research Berries-- she set out to see the world, to explore, and to grow.

She can’t let herself stagnate after one failure!

 

“I want to be independent!” Citrine told them, “so I’m going to challenge the world out there again.”

At that, Rydel gave a relieved look.

 

With a resigned but gratuitous sigh, Rydel put a hand on Citrine’s shoulder. “If you’re going so far to say that, I guess I can only wish the best for you.”

Rydel turned around, toward some of his merchandise, and unlatched a bike from the corner.

“But I’m not letting you go alone! Take a bike with you,” and it’s an order, “it’s foldable, and light, and fast, and-- well, you get it! Take it with you!”

 

Rydel squeezed the bike into its compact form, tucking it into the back of Citrine’s wheelchair.

“I can’t possibly take something so expensive!” she told him, trying to refuse-- who gives a girl in a wheelchair a bike? “I don’t have the money, anyways.”

“I’m not making you pay for it,” he poked her in the forehead, “I’m not Aunt Haruna from the daycare.”

Citrine burst into laughter at that.

 

“Only bike it after your recuperation time, got it? Once you get to Lavaridge, consult the physician there about your legs. You’re not allowed to bike until then, alright?” Rydel said, like he was reading off a notice board, “Loudred and Lombre, keep her close.”

Lombre and Loudred saluted with a chirp of agreement.

 

-

 

“It feels like it’s been ages since you first came in here, Vigoroth carrying you in in the ungodly hours of the night,” Aunt Haruna sighed, “you grow up so fast.”

“It’s only been barely two weeks, Aunt Haruna,” she responded, cradling an Azurill in her lap, “I’ll probably miss this place. It’s the most comfortable I’ve been in my life.”

 

The Pokemon Daycare in Mauville was small, but full of love, sunshine, and warmth. It’s the kindest place in the world, where peace radiated from the walls and the soil.

Citrine was crowded by Pokemon the second she wheeled in, which spoke volumes of how popular she was in there. Even the visitor’s Pokemon crawled over curiously, some asking her for something, maybe to sing.

 

“The baby Pokemon love you too,” Aunt Haruna told her, combing her hair out. Binding them into twintails, she said, “we’ll miss your help here as well, so come back anytime, got it?”

Citrine felt warm inside.

Aunt Haruna was the mom she never knew she needed. Why were people in this world so kind, so loving? So accepting?

(Unlike the people in the other world.)

“I’ll definitely come back,” she promised.

 

-

 

“The journey’s only getting harder herein. Do you have everything you need?”

 

The last one to greet was Wattson.

Citrine nodded.

“I have Lotty and Whismy with me,” she told him. Lombre and Loudred raised their arms together like a pair of enthusiastic guard dogs, making Wattson laugh.

 

“Well, surprise surprise, there’s something,” Wattson opened the gym doors, and out flew two figures who charged right into Citrine’s face.

Citrine squeaked, unable to escape.

 

Shaking off the dizzy spell, she found herself facing Magnemite and Zubat, who fluttered around her cheerfully, singing in their tongues.

“These two little greml **ins** have been wait **in** ’ since last night!” Wattson grinned wide, then laughed at his own joke.

 

“You’re the Magnemite from the power plant,” she remembered-- “is the loose screw okay now?”

Magnemite was floating stably, entirely comfortable and content. In its loose screw socket, tucked in the fault gap, was a plastic ring. Citrine had fit it in there yesterday as an experiment-- seemed it worked perfectly after all.

 

She turned to the Zubat.

“You’re the one from the cave… and the one that stayed back yesterday?” she let it land on her shoulder.

“It’s taken a liking to you,” Wattson told her, “apparently it’s the one that called for the horde to save you yesterday too.”

Citrine gaped, “really?”

It’s crazy smart. Were Pokemon supposed to be this intelligent?

Zubat swayed around happily.

Citrine felt the warm fuzz of fur-- and sighed, resigning herself to her fate. Reaching into her pocket, she retrieved a ring, and tucked it at the base of Zubat’s wing.

 

“Guess you two are in the party now, then!” she welcome them gladly, “you’ll be Magney, and hmm… Crowy!”

 

They fluttered around happily at that.

Citrine giggled.

 

(She may have lost something precious, but she gained two more.)

(It’s by no means a replacement. The hole will always remain there.)

(But at the very least, the pain eases a little.)

 

-

 

“Citrine dear, take this with you.”

Wattson set the Dynamo badge onto Citrine’s hands, and Citrine stopped short.

“Wait-- wait, Mister Wattson? What’s this for?”

 

Wattson laughed. As if it were obvious, he declared, “it’s for you, of course!

Citrine spluttered, too surprised to be coherent, “but- But I-- I don’t deser-- I didn’t challenge you or anything!”

Wattson smiled proudly.

 

“I can give the badge to anyone I deem worthy. That’s what the association told me,” he said, “and I think, Citrine, you have the potential to soar far beyond right now. That’s why you’re worthy.”

Citrine felt incredibly guilty. What part of her right now was worthy? She’d only shown Wattson all the pathetic sides of her so far.

 

“Are…” she didn’t know what to say, “are you sure?”

This badge, and the badge under her vest, from Roxanne. She didn’t feel like she deserved either of them, yet the leaders thought she did. She didn’t understand.

What did they see in her?

(Expectations?)

 

“You work harder than anyone else I’ve seen,” Wattson told her, “you care about everyone else more than you do your own self. Beyond anything-- that’s important.”

 

(Selflessness?)

 

“Take that badge and be proud of it!” Wattson told her, “a Gym Leader,  _ two  _ leaders of Hoenn have acknowledge you as a trainer, Citrine!”

Citrine smiled back, a little touched.

 

“I hope I can become someone who lives up to this badge,” she said, “thanks so much, Mister Wattson.”

 

-

 

Citrine set off the next day, with four Pokemon in tow, wheeling herself on the road toward Lavaridge.

“Lotty, Whismy, Magney and Crowy,” she called them, “looks like it’s getting a little crowded around here, huh?”

 

They chirped back with their individual calls, filled with energy and enthusiasm.

 

(The road ahead is long.)

(But with them, she can keep going.)


	19. step back in boldly, and face new trials bravely.

_Baby steps back into the world._

 

 

"Wait, I don't think this is a good idea. I don't think this is a good ideeEAAAAAAHHHH!!!"

 

Citrine had never been carried like a princess before. Sure, she had a brother, but said brother was not all that strong of a man-- she was always either carried like a baby or set in a piggyback, and even then that was when she was a little smaller in stature.

 

Whismy hefted her up as if she weighed nothing. She clung on for dear life, femininity be damned.

Crowy the Zubat fluttered up with her bag in its claws, and Magney the Magnemite tested its limits with the wheelchair. It failed, and Lotty had to drag it up herself.

 

The route from Mauville to Lavaridge was laden with rocky hills and curving cliffs. There was, of course, a highway up the same route, but it was a long way around under the scorching summer (is it summer?) heat.

Citrine decided to cut straight through the forestry, because if they were going to struggle anyways, might as well get research done on the way.

 

They reached the top of the little hill, and looked out into the horizon.

It's not all that high, but it was high enough to see the tops of the trees and the magnificent jungle that stretched beyond. There was a gap where the highway evidently extended to the west, but forward-- forward was the mountain, and the red of volcanic soil.

 

"That's Mount Chimney!" she told her Pokemon, smiling as they chittered around in excitement.

It was still a ways off. They wouldn't make it all the way for another few days, at their very gradual pace.

 

Retrieving her camera from the back pocket, she captured the grand form of the volcano, and had her Pokemon sit in for a rather childish selfie.

 

She could see from here, the misty volcanic ashes bellowing from the top. A stark red against the blue skies, she felt the warmth even from here, in the heartfully baked soil, like a hug from mother nature.

 

"Let's stay here for tonight, and see if we can make it at least to the foot of the mount by tomorrow," she settled onto her wheelchair again, taking out her notebook for jottings.

 

With a cheer, Loudred hopped to a more level spot, breaking out the tents as he commanded the rest of the Pokemon to their duties.

Being the most senior of the group gave him a superiority complex, especially after he grew arms and gained the ability to be dexterous. Citrine thinks it's adorable.

Magnemite helped them set up the tent while Lombre and Zubat scurried back into the woods, presumably to gather food for the night. Citrine was starting to think that her Pokemon were much more capable than her.

 

The party feels rather crowded now, compared to before, and she couldn't help but feel a little warmer inside.

 

Magnemite was a shaky hoverer, with its unhinged screw and all, but it was really trying its best. The fact that it could lift metal objects with its magnets was pretty useful, albeit it couldn't lift anything heavier than the crockery.

Zubat was too tiny to lift her or anything, but it could fly to scout the horizon. It was a whole ball of energy, always smacking into a wall or a tree or a face whenever Citrine stopped smiling for more than two seconds.

With new limbs, Loudred was overeager to help. He took command over everything, like a little leader. It pointed to places and scoured for danger before letting them cross certain areas.

Lombre, timid as she was, enjoyed herself. She helped where she could, guided where she needed to, and held her own weight with no less leadership than Loudred had.

 

"Pokemon Mystery Dungeon," Citrine muttered to herself, like a revelation.

 

-

 

"So Whismy likes them spicy, Lotty likes them sweet, Magney likes them bitter..." Citrine jotte down as her Pokemon wolfed down pots of Berry Stew, making clear to the girl which they liked better.

 

"...and Crowy likes them dry?"

(Just like Wurmy.)

She felt a pang of hurt.

 

Zubat fluttered around, noticing the sudden fall in mood. It panicked, spinning circles around the girl before ramming its whole body at her face, hoping to cheer her up.

And it worked. Citrine laughed at her little bat. They say that bats ram into each other often because they flew too fast and were all blind. Looks like Crowy didn't know any other way to passionate express physical affection.

Wurmy was still an open wound, but it would be fine. Surely, somewhere out there, Wurmy is happier in the wild.

She would pray for it every night.

 

-

 

Citrine woke up to a family of Zigzagoon curled into her. Ah, fluffy animals really made the best pillows-- no, that's not the point!

Still hugging a Zigzagoon, (it just murmured something inaudible then continued snoring in her arms) she looked around her to find a Linoone had replaced her pillow, and a whole litter of Zigzagoon curled all around her bedding.

 

She looked up.

(Yes, her tent is still there.)

 

Okay, then maybe this is a dream. Let's go back to sleep.

 

 

_**"LoUDRED!!!"** _

 

Every soul in the tent leapt, startled by the sharp, screeching, absolutely unholy wake up call. A Zigzagoon actually shriveled up and made a sobbing noise.

 

Loudred-- Whismy-- came barging right in, yelling indecipherable accusations (judging by the angry pointing, he was being hostile and rude) at the intruding Pokemon. Linoone, having recovered from the ringing in its ears, began to yell right back, wildly gesticulating.

 

She could kind of imagine what was going on. Her Pokemon insisted on taking turns watching the night, but she remembered going to sleep curled in with Lotty and Crowy last night. So probably sometime in between, the Zigzagoon snuck in, made themselves a nest, and Loudred didn't have the heart to wake them up in the middle of the night to chase them away.

Leave it to overprotective little Whismy to make a fuss.

 

Citrine yawned, and the Zigzagoon in her arms yawned too. It was really too early in the morning for this.

Loudred and Linoone began to argue fiercely.

 

Rubbing her eyes sleepily, cuddling Zigzagoon in her arms, Citrine crawled her way out of the tent to make breakfast. Hopefully the Zigzagoon like Poffins.

 

-

-

-

 

 

_The joy of unexpected things._

 

“Thanks for keeping me warm, Ziggy,” she rubbed the little raccoons on the head, making sure to pat all of them at least once, “hm? Oh, you have a beauty mark! Let’s call you Beauty. Hm-- oh? You want a name too? Wait, I can’t possibly name all of you! Get your mommy to name you… Oh, you’re a different colour than the others! Let’s call you Sparkly-- no, I need to stop naming you guys! Lord knows I have awful naming sense!”

 

Citrine was currently being crowded by a dozen little Zigzagoons fighting for her attention. She had somehow tamed herself a Zigzagoon army after feeding them a bunch of Poffins.

 

Linoone cosied up to her, resting its head on Citrine’s lap after nuzzling against her stomach for a while.

Citrine blushed bright red, “no, c’mon!”

 

 

She caught sight of Loudred and Lombre, who stared at the sight looking devastated beyond belief. They looked half a moment from crying.

Suddenly she felt like a husband being caught cheating. Frantically, she waved her arms about, trying desperately to explain herself.

 

But too late, Lotty was wailing like a baby at this point, and Crowy was fluttering frantic circles around the Lombre. Magney, mindlessly stirring the pot on the other end, sulked and pretending it couldn’t see a thing.

 

“Wait, this isn’t what it looks like--”

Whismy used Uproar.

“Oh, not again!”

 

-

 

After an extended search, it seemed that the Zigzagoon were chased from their den because of a bad thunderstorm few nights back that wrecked a good portion of the forest.

That made sense. Loudred wouldn’t have let anything else into her tent. Citrine felt significantly better this morning, curled up in softness. It’s been a while since she slept near a source of heat regulation, after all. And the Zigzagoon were fluffy.

 

“Bye, Linny!” she waved at the Linoone as it led its litter back into the forest, “good luck finding a new den!”

 

Now to get back on the road.

Citrine could see the damage from the hill she stood. A whole portion of the jungle caved in, trees were broken at the trunks and some were peeled off by its roots. But because the trees were cleared out a certain portion, the white of brick peered from the gaps in the scenery.

 _A building,_  she realized. There was a building there-- shaped like a dome… an observatory?

“The Weather Institute!” she gasped, “that’s the weather institute!

 

It was a little more east than Mount Chimney, but around the same distance ahead. If the wreckage stemmed from that area, and there had been a thunderstorm a few days ago… ah.

“So Ruby and Norman’s fight happened a few days ago!” she set a fist on a palm, solving the equation. “That means they’re headed off to uh, Verdanturf now… and Saphire’s headed to Lavaridge-- ah, so the volcano’s gonna die soon. That defeats the purpose of my visit to Lavaridge.”

 

Silence, one, two.

 

“Okay guys, change course!” she declared, “let’s go to the Weather Institute instead!”

Loudred, in his shock, dropped the whole pile of berries he was gathering. Lombre slipped on a loose roll of firewood and smacked chinfirst on the ground. Zubat crashed right into Magnemite like a blind idiot.

“First, let’s fold up my wheelchair,” she said with a smile.

 

-

 

It’s all impulse, but what was a journey without unexpected twists and turns?

 

At her pace, she would probably reach Lavaridge after Sapphire does, meaning the volcano would be dead and Lavaridge’s hot springs would be null. Citrine wasn’t going to get any physical therapy done if the town was panicking about something far more serious.

 

So what if she took a slight detour?

The Weather Institute was a straight road from here, and it was a  _research facility_. That meant strange infrastructure, mysterious chemicals, extended notes- and of course, records of weather patterns had plenty to do with Berry Researching!

After all, Hoenn’s humid temperatures and high sea-to-land ratio was among is most unique points. If Citrine wanted to really  _master_  the Berry Encyclopedia, the research data from there would definitely come in handy.

 

And since Ruby and Norman’s fight is over with, she didn’t have to worry about being caught in that mess.

A win-win situation.

 

-

 

It was a straight road.

It was supposed to be a straight road.

So how did she get lost??

 

"Why is there a desert here?!" She yelled to nothing, then grabbed Crowy and Magney back before the sandstorm buffeted them away. "Oh dear, Magney fainted just from the weather condition."

 

She tucked the Magnemite and Zubat into her bag, then set it aside with her folded wheelchair. Standing up, she set a hand on Whismy as she looked out into the horizon. She did faintly remember a desert along this path… it was such a strange place to have a desert, though.

She was near the entrance, so if she worked hard enough, she’ll be able to retrace her steps and get back on the road.

(Or, she could cross the desert as a shortcut on the route toward Fallabor.)

 

Lombre tugged at her shirt, and pointed frantically in a certain direction.

“What is it-- oh,  _oh, woah_.”

 

In the distance, though the storm was gallant and the view was obscured far too much-- there was a building.

She could only see a very vague silhouette, but it was there. A tower, reaching high into the skies.

 

She didn’t think twice.

“Whismy!” she called out, “take the wheelchair, we’re going to hide out in there for shelter until the storm passes!”

 

She collapsed the bike and set herself on it, pulling the straps of her bag into her arms before Lombre clung to her shoulders. The wheelchair was folded into a portable size, and Whismy hefted it up.

With a little effort, she began to cycle, each step coming deceptively easy to her strained limbs.

 

“See that, Lotty? That’s called Mirage Tower! It shows up every once in three to four times you pass by,” she said, "don't lose track of it! We're going to explore!"

 


	20. sandy trouble? reckless is the way to go.

_Climb up the sandy spiral of strife._

 

There's sand in her vest, in her bag, (even though it was closed?) in her shoes, in her pockets and even in her hair.

 

She gets off lucky that she had a handkerchief on hand to cover her mouth and her nose. For her eyes-- well, let's just say she found a pair of swimming goggles at the bottom of her bag and decided it would be better than nothing.

She trips over a Trapinch, nearly crashes into a Cacnea, then the bicycle wheel sinks.

 

It was an endless route of trouble, but eventually, they found themselves in front of the tower, brushing a hand against crusted golden sand. There was no door in the entrance, but the buffet of the sand was significantly less arduous with the new walls around them.

 

Finding a flight of stairs on the other end of the ground floor, they made their way over with nigh a moment's hesitation, eager to get out of the weather.

 

-

 

"No no, no water gun. It'll get muddy."

 

Citrine wiped her own face clean with a damp towel, working on the edges of Magnemite's sand-infested screws while Lombre whined about the dryness, spewing water gun all over Loudred.

Zubat flew right into the water geyser spouting from Lombre, and got knocked away. Citrine snatched it out of the air, depositing its muddy butt on the towel and just madly ruffled the water out of it.

 

Seriously, Crowy was the bat equivalent of a dog so stupid you'd want twenty.

 

 

"Guess we're definitely in for a bath soon," Citrine sighed. Well she wasn't exactly expecting a desert trip to be clean... "I hope the sandstorm quells soon. We'll need to get Magney to a Centre."

 

Sprawled around on a decently-clean mat from her bag, they had a meal of berries and sandwiches.

Or, they were going to.

 

The next moment had Loudred diving for Citrine, barely scraping her out of the way of a malicious Fury Swipe.

They turned around to an angry horde of Sandshrew.

 

Loudred took a breath, and Citrine interrupted with a sharp "wait, Whismy, No! The whole tower might collapse!"

Then the Sandshrew made the most hateful hissing noise Citrine had ever heard an armadillo make. Citrine gathered her bag in her arm and they bolted right out of there.

 

-

 

The only way they could go was up.

They had to forgo the bike in the rush, and though that gave the Sandshrew an edge on flat ground, Whimsy could leap up a flight of stairs if he tried.

 

At some point, Whismy picked Citrine right up in his arms and they ran off just like that. Maybe he remembered that Citrine wasn't supposed to be running, and Lotty clumsily grabbed at the half-closed bag, where Zubat and Magney were dizzily rattled inside.

"Lotty!" Citrine clambered upright, wrapping her arms around her Loudred's head. "Water Gun!"

 

Lombre skidded to a stop-- and when the aquatic beam gushed forth, half the Sandshrew in the front skidded off course. They crashed into each other, hit rocks, and some fainted from the type advantage.

But the rest used the fallen frontline as a launching pad, dodging the water gun easily. Some even rolled against the walls and flipped across large stones.

 

"Lotty, Bubblebeam! Then-- Crowy, get out of the goddamn bag already!"

 

Lotty strapped the bag around her shoulders in one smooth motion, then emitted a wave of bubbles in a sharp beam. It had a narrower range than Water Gun, but was certainly much stronger.

Finally stable, Zubat teetered out of the bag. Confused, he hovered around the area for a moment, spotted the bag, and clawed around to zip it back up.

 

"Crowy, that way! Enemies that way!" Citrine yelled, pointing furiously, not really registering that the bat can't see, "use Supersonic!"

 

For a moment, Zubat was going to hit a rock with Supersonic. But Lombre grabbed him out of the air and just about chucked him into the mess of Sandshrew, right when Crowy decided to release Supersonic in every known direction to man.

Needless to say, they took off running up the stairs, the Sandshrew went mad, and Lombre managed to grab Zubat with her tongue before they caught up.

 

-

 

"What did we do to make them angry?" Citrine sprawled on the ground (they left their mat and the food down there, along with the bike and wheelchair) breathing heavily and sweaty from the run. "Were we in their territory? Did they want our food?"

 

Either way, she wanted to sleep now. No, they should at least get back out there somehow...it's still storming out there. Maybe they should build a barricade so the Sandshrew wouldn't chase after them?

 

"Is Magney okay?" Citrine unzipped her bag-- great, everything's covered in sand again! But at least Magney was still in there, sleeping soundly.

 

Citrine set a hand on Lombre's head, smiling warmly in thanks. She dusted the sand out of Loudred's back and rubbed him on the head too. Zubat flew into her hand, asking for attention, and she just ruffled it with both hands like a furball, making it dizzy.

 

 

Tugging her bag over her shoulders, they went away from the stairs. Carefully avoiding some holes on the ground, they followed the curve of the floor, guessed out some intersections, and found themselves before a dead end.

"Did we make a wrong turn...?"

 

She counted internally. Mirage Tower had four floors... but that was the game. Surely the real thing had more floors. It was a repetitive route of similar spiras in the game, but there were twists and turns in this one. Surely, there were more floors...

 

Zubat crowed at her. He had flown ahead to the back of the pillar from a small opening at the side.

"Is there something back there?" she asked.

 

 

It was a small cavern, barely enough for something like a decently sized dog to wriggle through. Or maybe Citrine could, if she tried hard enough...

 

"Whismy can't fit in there," she deduced. Setting her bag down and plucking out of her twintails, she handed one of her hair ties to the Pokemon. "Lotty... oh, your body fits but your lily pad is in the way. Alright, then."

 

Loose clothing would make things tough, so she stripped off her vest jacket and playfully put it around Lombre's shoulders. The Pokemon looked almost proud to be wearing Gym Badges.

"Hold onto Magney for me, alright? I'll go check things out and we'll be right back out," she said, "if the Sandshrew come, you can drive them away, right?"

 

The two made compliant noises, Loudred proudly huffing its chest and Lombre raising an arm in agreement.

 

 

Citrine pulled her hair into a low ponytail, tied at the base of her neck. Crouching down at the little hole in the wall, for a moment she feared she really couldn't fit.

Then Zubat fluttered by with its cheerful little crows, and Citrine couldn't help but smile.

 

 

It took a little wriggling and a lot of bellysucking-- she's fairly sure she's gotten a few new scrapes she couldn't feel. Maybe she should switch to clothing with longer sleeves in case something like this happens again...

The little pathway opened into a large room. There were windows in this room, which thankfully made it less of an oxygen hazard, but it also made the sandstorm blow in weakly.

 

 

"What did you want me to... oh."

She turned around-- and sure enough, on the far wall, embedded into the sandy bricks, were two brown cores that looked too intricately-patterned to be wind-blown aftermath.

From the way it jutted out, they were stones-- no...

 

"The Root and Claw Fossil..." Citrine brightened immediately, turning to the little bat and giving it a little nuzzle in joy, "great job, Crowy! You found exactly what I meant to look for."

 

The Zubat chittered, not really understanding but at least it's happy it was praised.

 

"Let's go take them, then we can settle down and wait for the storm to... uWAH!!"

Her footing gives way, and a loud rumble courses through the ground-- no, the whole tower. The world shook around her, earth crackling and walls shuddering--

 

 

"But I haven't-- taken the fossils yet! Something's wrong!"

 

She laid low, arms over her head protectively as rocks fell from the ceiling, and parts of the wall crumbled. She could hear Loudred and Lombre panic on the other end, and she yelled for them to stand back. That wall was too thick for them to logically try breaking in.

"This isn't the tower crumbling, this is--"

 

She lunged forward to catch her Zubat before a stone hit it. It would be super effective, wouldn't it?

 

Almost abruptly, the ground stopped shaking. She slipped on the sand and fell to her bottom, Zubat still in her arms.

 

"I knew it, this is--" she turned toward the fossils again. "A Pokemon move... probably Earthquake."

This time, there was a Pokemon standing before the two fossils, poised in anger and wings raised in irritation. The dragonfly-shaped Pokemon was large enough to be Citrine's whole body in size, and that was honestly intimidating in itself.

 

 

"A Vibrava..."

 

 

-

 

 

_Who cares about common sense?_

“Seriously, a mid-boss levelled Pokemon Battle and all I have on hand is a Zubat that is capable of flying itself into a Water Gun  _not_  aimed at him.”

 

Citrine can see the hopelessness in this situation already. Maybe she should turn tail and run for it.

As if on cue, Zubat flies into her face. With a groan, she pries the bat off of her face and points at the Vibrava, “that way!”

 

But Crowy is still confused. Her eyes sharpened at that, sensing something wrong in the situation.

 

Now that she pried her ears to listen, there was a humming noise in the background. obscured by the whizz of the sandstorm. Alarmed, she looked for the source-- and found it in Vibrava’s sharply-fluttering wings.

“Crowy, use supersonic!” she commanded immediately, holding her Zubat in the direction of the Vibrava-- “it’s sending ultrasonic waves with its wings. That’s why you can’t see!”

And instantly, Zubat roared. Vibrava tensed its wings, fluttering sharply in retaliation.

 

 

It was a fierce battle of Supersonic against Supersonic. It rang loud in Citrine’s ears-- surely, if she had a better pain sensor, her head would be an explosion of agony if this pressure in her head making her feel nauseated was anything to gauge.

Covering her ears, she knew she wouldn’t make it the other way back. Maybe she should call for Lotty or Whismy? Crowy can’t defeat the Vibrava on his own… the type disadvantage of the weather, among other things.

 

The supersonic battle in progress, she couldn’t give any commands.

 

 

Instead, she breathed in, and  _screamed_. She was muted amongst the sound already present-- but from the way Crowy fluttered sharply, dipping down and raising again-- he’d heard her loud and clear.

There was no command in that voice. Just a wordless, mindless scream, in hopes that Zubat would understand.

 

 

 _Fight for me,_  it meant.

 

 

And despite everything, Crowy was Rash by Nature. It’s impulsive, dumb, and reckless.

So immediately after understanding the order, it dove forward, wing glowing silver before he flapped it sharply forward, sending a wave of razor-sharp wind rippling through the air, nailing the Vibrava’s side.

For a startled moment, all sound stopped.

 

 

 

“Crowy, Confuse Ray!”

 

 

Vibrava was just a second too late to bring its supersonic barriers back up. Hit straight on, swirls filled its eyes and its wings stopped as it struggled to take a step forward.

Confused, it fired a maddening Dragon Breath in all directions. Failing to dodge it, Crowy was blown away by a direct hit.

 

Citrine lunged aside from the attack and ducked behind a large stone until it died down. Once it was safe, she bolted out and picked up her Zubat, before ducking behind another rock pile, lying flat to avoid detection.

“Crowy… crap, Paralysis?” she noticed quickly, “I left all my Berries outside with Loudred…”

Zubat was a little dizzy from all the tugging around, but it was conscious and not defeated just yet. It definitely wouldn’t last any longer against that Vibrava…

“Crowy, can you use Haze?”

 

He could.

Gray smog spilled from its mouth, filling the area quickly. Zubat’s status condition was cured in moments.

Unfortunately, the haze seemed to erase the confusion in Vibrava’s senses too. It noticed the dark haze and screeched in their direction.

 

-

 

Zubat couldn’t last another Supersonic battle, and the exit was too far from here now.

 

Maybe they could jump out the window? The sandstorm was weaker now… yeah, fat chance. Sand or not, Citrine’s going to really shatter her legs this time. Crowy wasn’t strong enough to carry a person with him in flight.

Maybe she should just break the tower… but the historical relics! The Sandshrew! Actually the Sandshrew probably don’t live here, this is a Mirage Tower after all…

 

This was a hopeless battle, no matter how you looked at it. For a moment, she felt despair.

 

 

“Oh, if only Leafeon was here,” she mourned, speaking hushedly to Zubat, “Leafeon’s really, really strong, so she can probably take down a Vibrava or two easily.”

 

Zubat made a  _krrr_  sound, fluttering in protest. It didn’t have eyes, but for some reason, Citrine felt that he was frowning at her, desperate to prove himself.

Then Zubat flew out of her hands, and she panicked.

 

“Wait, Crowy! NO!”

 

Vibrava spotted Zubat immediately, and against the wave of purple Dragon Breath, and Zubat took it head on.

 

 

She needed to do something-- anything--

Zubat dropped to the ground, unmoving-- no, it twitched. It was still conscious-- but not for long.

She stifled the worry, the concern-- and swore in her head. What could she even do? She’s just a trainer, she’s useless once she’s out of Pokemon--

 

“Crowy, use Haze!”

 

And Zubat did. Deep gray fog filled the surroundings, and Vibrava Screeched, on high alert.

 

Haze was never meant to be used to lower accuracy, because it didn’t last long. But a few seconds were enough for Citrine to leap over the boulder she hid, charging in, not for Zubat--

But for the Fossils.

 

After all, if the Pokemon was attacking them for being here, it must not want her to touch the fossils. That’s how it is in Mystery Dungeon and literally every probably Dungeon manga in the goddamn world, because the world is cliche like that.

 

 

She set a hand on both fossils-- but they were stuck tight. Vibrava noticed her, an ear-piercing, shriek resounding as wings batted, and the Dragon Pokemon came right for her.

She heard Zubat use Supersonic of his own volition, and knew exactly what was coming.

 

Citrine moved her hands quickly, so she only held one of the fossils-- and with one rough grunt, tugged the fossil right out.

There was a resounding crack in her fingers, but she didn’t have time to look out for it. She was blown back by her own force when the fossil came loose, which, by luck, sent her rolling right out of Vibrava’s attack trajectory, and the Dragon Breath carved through the wall.

 

For a second, Citrine felt victorious.

And then the tower shook.

 

 

She managed to run to her Zubat, covering him in her arms-- before the ceiling caved in on her, and the world faded to black.

She remembered seeing something yellow flash past her, but she couldn’t see what exactly it was.

 

-

 

She didn’t exactly fall unconscious, but it really felt like it.

 

The world just collapsed, the tower shattered to pieces like the illogical contraption it just  _was_ , and before she really understood anything, she was staring at the sun, lying strangely intact among broken bricks and a lot of sand.

By strangely intact, at least she still had all her limbs and could move them.

 

She looked to the side to see the Vibrava, overturned and all dizzy-eyed. Poor thing. Maybe she’ll give it a berry later…

 

“Oh, the sandstorm stopped,” she noticed belatedly. “Awesome, now I can see without those swimming goggles.

Then, pause.

 

“What happened to everything else?!” she freaked out, rolling to her knees--  _oh, Crowy is inside her shirt, how did he get inside there_ \-- then continued panicking. “Where’s Whismy? Lotty? My wheelchair? The bag?! The bike?!”

 

If the entire tower was in crumbles-- this was awfully little rubble for a whole tower collapsing…

There were very confused Sandshrew around, rolling across rubble and picking up an intact brick before going on their way in different directions. Okay, that explained the lack of debris…

 

 

With a roar, Loudred rose dramatically from the dead, punching away a whole load of rubble off of him before making some angry declaration to the skies. Citrine’s bag was around his shoulders, intact, though a little squished and dusty.

Beside him, Lombre woke up sleepily and very, very confused. She tilted her head to the side, as if wondering where she even was. Then she seemed to remember something, flipping a rock and picking up Citrine’s vest jacket before hugging it desperately.

 

 

Citrine sighed in relief. She then turned her head back forward-- and froze. Every cell in her stopped moving, because she knew she shouldn’t make any sudden reactions now.

In front of her, seated between her legs and wobbling curiously-- was a little Abra.

 

And suddenly, everything made sense.

 

 

She was safe, and this wouldn’t be the first time she’d been sent out of danger by a conveniently-timed teleport. She was mostly uninjured right now because this Pokemon was here, and it had saved her from the worst of it.

 

And Abra in the desert? It’s not a coincidence.

 _Has it been following me,_  she wondered, is this the same one as back in Mauville? Why is it following her? Is it alone, and for what reason?

Instead, she leaned forward slowly, slightly, and smiled.

 

 

“Thank you,” she says, and after a moment she adds, “hey, want to come with me?”

 

 

The Abra didn’t respond. At the words, it vanished in a flash of Teleport, as if it was content just knowing the girl was okay.

 

They say that psychic-type Pokemon have foresight. Maybe Abra was just looking out for the girl, knowing what she was going to face. It didn’t want any emotional attachments-- wasn’t interested, perhaps.

Either way, she was grateful.


End file.
